Rapture's Ascent
by Keeper of War
Summary: Chapter 12 is now online, ladies and gentlemen. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter one; Opening Pandora's Box

The room was dark and dank; the smell of blood, seawater, and grime filled the halls with its odor. Desks and chairs were strewn about the room, thrown out of the way to accommodate a more menacing contraption that dominated the room. Wires covered the floor, connecting a ten foot glass chamber to a generator, and to various tubes and canisters. Most of the few lights that functioned were focused about the machinery, lighting every surface while the rest of the room went without.

A tall, lanky man stood over a desk that was cluttered with papers. He wore a sweat-drenched dress-shirt, open on the first few buttons, his black dress slacks torn and greased from his labors, and his shoes were long ago cast away. He wore an ivory mask that covered the right half of his face; his black hair covered his eyes, slick with sweat. He muttered constantly under his breath, his words hushed but quick. The hands that he gripped the desk with were covered in frost, ice crystals crackling around his fists.

"Reach the land. Land-ho. Need an out can't stay here. Too close, too stuffed, to stiff. Need to get out. Out. Out out out out OUT OUT **OUT!**" His words echoed about him as he raised his arms flinging papers everywhere. "Is it ready? Ready ready ready?" The man vanished in a flash of red mist and snowflakes as the air shimmered in the room. Another burst of blue revealed the man at the entrance to the machine, "Make me strongerfasterbetter. Fix me," He opened the door, stepping inside. The door closed behind him as a humming filled the room, the generator rattling as it surged power through the cables.

"Fix me. Make me stronger. Faster. Better. FIX ME!" The machine's roar made the walls shake as electricity sparked from exposed wires, placing an aura about the machine that almost looked arcane in nature. The man in the machine began roaring in pain as energy surged through his body, causing the glass tube to glow.

As the light filled the room, the electricity began arcing off the walls, generating heat that caused the puddles around the bolts to evaporate immediately. As the machine reached its critical energy output, the sound of glass shattering erupted from the tube as the man was thrown from the contraption, his body slamming into the opposite wall as the machine dimmed, its use expended.

Silence leaked into the room as the stillness dragged on. Finally, the man opened his eyes, surveying the damage around him. His desk was still smoldering from a rogue bolt of electricity that torched his papers. He stood warily, his body in immense pain. The entire corner of the room that he was hurled into was frozen, with ice coating everything.

He steadied himself, then reached into his mind to teleport himself across the room. However, instead of snowflakes bursting around him, a soft white light glowed around his right hand. As the glow brightened, a glowing oval appeared in front of him. As he stepped in, a bright light shown across the room by the shattered machine. His foot crossed the threshold of the oval light and stepped down onto the ground across the room. He pulled his body through and found himself staring up at the machine that had thrown him against the wall.

He turned to face the portal that he had crossed through, then waved it away with his hand. He held up his hand and watched as another appeared in front of him and above him on the balcony. With glee he stepped through it and appeared upstairs. Wordless minutes were spent as he tried out his new ability, jumping through portal after portal, spanning he room in seconds, then learning to move the portals to swallow him while he stood still. Light flooded the room with each creation of a portal.

Finally, the man turned towards the machine, and appeared in front of it. "Free. I'll be free. Free of the underworld. Free." He murmured as he set to work fixing it. He worked diligently as he carefully crafted the machine back to its original state. "Fix it. I'll fix it. I'll free others. I'll show others." The man finally stepped back as he glanced at the repaired contraption, with all but the glass tubing repaired.

The man raised his arms as a large portal opened up behind the machine. He began moving it forward to take the machine to his desired location, when he heard a slow thumping. He turned to see the door behind him open as a giant gloved hand held it for a small girl. The girl must have been eight years old, in a little purple dress and a large syringe in her hand. The towering goliath growled behind her as it stared at the man. The goliath looked as if it were an old scuba-diver. Its head bore an old rusty helmet with many small viewports, the entire helmet braced with thick metal wires. Two large tanks hung on its back as it hunched forward, arm ending in a massive hand, the other in a large drill.

The man began stepping backwards slowly as the giant growled louder, pulling the small girl back. The girl spoke, "Mr. B? I'm scared." The giant stepped forward and roared, then charged at the man. In a rush of motion, the giant sped through the man as he disappeared in a flash of white light. The giant was carried forward into the machine, crashing through it into the portal.

A blaze of electricity surged through the machine as the giant's drill punctured the generator, churning the current through the contraption and through the giant. The giant's body was wracked with spasms as his body glowed so bright that the man, who had appeared next to the small girl, could not look directly at it. The giant stumbled forward through the portal as it roared in pain.

A car horn screeched as it almost collided with the electrocuted giant that had suddenly appeared in the streets of Sacramento. It grabbed at the wires that covered its body as its size began to increase. The man appeared across the packed street as hundreds of onlookers gazed at the growling, glowing giant. The goliath now towered at least twenty feet tall, the electricity surging through it as its suit began reforming, merging with the giant's body.

The man looked desperately for a way to stop the transformation, then his eyes fell upon the wires that connected the giant to the generator that had now fallen to the ground. He threw his hand forward and summoned a portal that manifested where the wires were, splitting them as it tore open the fabric of space-time.

The wires crackled as the last of the energy surged throughout the giant's body. As the light dimmed, the man gazed up at the figured that towered over him. The giant had bonded to his suit, the rods over his now massive helmet split, and swayed as if alive. The goliath's body shown metal as the arm that formerly held the massive drill ended in a claw-like hand, the fingers coming to points. The other hand was more normal, yet just as massive as the rest of the body.

Immediately the light from within the helmet turned red as the creature roared. The man began backing up quickly when he heard a voice. He turned to see the same little girl, standing where the portal to the undersea room had been, "Mr. Bubbles? What happened to you?" The Goliath turned towards the child in a groan, and reached for her.

Desperately, the man threw up his hands and jumped forward, tackling the little girl through a portal, disappearing in an instant. The giant roared, and began swinging his arms in fury, looking about itself for the child.

Atop a roof, the man stood, holding the hand of a frightened child. He looked down at the whimpering girl and muttered, "Adam adam so much adam what do I do."

The girl stared up at the man, "Please don't hurt me, mister. Please" A tear seemed to roll down her young cheek as her eyes glowed yellow up to the man.

The man tightened his wrists, ice sprouting up his arms as the air cooled, "Not that man I'm not that man anymore. Not going to kill, eat slug, no adam don't need it. Fine how I am I'm free." The man turned away from the girl and gazed down at the raging monstrosity, "Wait here, I'll fix this. My fault, I fix. My machine I fix." The man disappeared in a flash of light.

The monster slammed his claws into a building, tearing glass and rock off the face and raining it down upon the people below. Suddenly, a bolt of ice hit the giant in one of the viewports, blocking it. The goliath groaned, then scraped it off and looked around. Below him stood the man, waving his arms desperately. As the monster reached down, the man disappeared, appearing on a nearby window ledge. The monster slammed his massive fist into the wall, but the man was gone again.

Standing on a nearby car, the man knew he couldn't toy with the beast forever. "Plan need a plan, take down the Big Daddy. Need to take him down, too big to freeze, what do I do?" Suddenly, the man had an idea. Remembering how he severed the wires, the man threw up his arms in an attempt to stop the carnage.

The monster roared, then stopped suddenly as a white light appeared in the middle of its helmet. Suddenly, the light disappeared, revealing an exposed, contorted face, the nose scraped clean off by the apparition of the portal. As the giant threw its head back, throwing the chunk of helmet, nose and all, to the ground below. Another light appeared on the left arm of the monster, tearing at its metallic skin, opening up the arm as the portal split space-time in half. The portals continued appearing and disappearing, chunks of the damaged monstrosity rained down upon the road, the sound of the tearing of metal and flesh filling the air with each portal apparition.

Finally, the goliath stumbled to a stop, leaning against a building. Its frame was a grotesque figure of twisted metal and skin, split and severed in multiple areas. As the man turned away to leave the scene, he heard a soft scrabbling noise, like that of many beetles running along a patch of sand. The man turned back to see the metallic fibers of the monster's suit reaching to other pieces, pulling itself together, repairing the damage done.

In a flash of light, the man was back on the rooftop by the small girl, gazing down at the writhing, living mass of metal and man that was squirming as it reconstructed itself. The man grabbed at his hair, squeezed his head, "Done done what have I done? Created a monster, my machine, my power. Fixed myself, made myself better but fixed that thing and made it stronger. What am I going to do do do do DO DO DO?" The man pulled at the mask on his face. Once bonded to his skin through many teleportations and blasts of freezing temperatures, the mask separated cleanly from the man's now repaired face. "Fixed me fixed me fixed me. Machine fixed me made me all better all better. Stronger faster all better." The man gripped the mask tightly, ice crystals growing over it. Suddenly, the mask snapped easily in the man's hand as it crumbled at his feet, the ice beginning to melt.

The man turned to the little girl who retreated suddenly. She whimpered, then slowly approached the man, "What are we gonna do mister? I think something's the matter with Mr. B."

Over another roar from the beast, the man spoke to the child, "Go go, we're gonna go. I think I know someone to help. Saw him once met him knows what to do. He's got power, he escaped, took some sisters too, I know where to find him, and Tenenbaum."

The girl's face broke into a smile, "You know where to find Mother Tenenbaum? That's great! But what's that man's name you were talking about?"

The man looked beyond the little girl, into a distant memory, "Man who escaped, brought up little sisters, got rid of big daddies, killed lots of splicers. I know the man the man the man. He can help us." A bright light shown in front of the man and the girl, "The man his name I remember his name, saved my life chose to spare me his name." The light grew brighter as the man led the Little Sister through the portal, "His name his name. His name was Jack."

[End of Chapter 1]


	2. Chapter 2

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter two: On Death's Doorstep

Jack Ryan sat in his humble apartment, the sunlight of the mid-afternoon leaked through the shutters, casting an eerie glow about his living room. He stared at the wall, as he often did, a glass of Jack Daniel's in his right hand, a book in his left. His mind drifted to distant memories of a distant world long forgotten. He sipped from his glass as his mind's eye reviewed images engraved in his mind. A man with the end of a golf putter in his skull. A little girl being torn apart by a group of insane people. A giant rampaging through a dark hallway.

The memories often played in his mind, torturing him with emotions that he never truly felt. A tool in an elaborate scheme, Jack often struggled with defining his life and what it meant, constantly reaching into his mind to analyze his every thought.

In the middle of the silence, a loud knock echoed at his door, startling him. In his surprise, the book he was holding burst into flames. Cursing, Jack stomped the fire out. As the knocking continued, Jack spoke roughly, "Hang on a sec!" Jack hurried to the kitchen, grabbing a broom to sweep up the mess.

A voice, muffled through the door, spoke, "Urgent. It's urgent, need help. My fault." Jack turned to the door, forgetting the mess. He had heard that voice before, and recognized the broken speech.

Jack crossed the room, then opened the door. Before him stood a rather disheveled man, tall and lanky, and wet with sweat. His eyes were sunken, his cheekbones prominent as if he hadn't eaten a proper meal in quite some time. By his side was a small girl, six or seven years old at least, with eyes that seemed to glow a sickly yellow color.

Jack spoke first, cutting the awkward silence, "How did you find me?"

The man replied, "You recognize me? Recognize me? Who I am? Me?"

"You're a Splicer. The girl is a Little Sister." Jack looked down at the girl in pity, knowing her purpose in life.

The man trembled slightly as he spoke, "Not just a splicer. Have a name. A name. You remember me? I doubt it. Doubtful."

Jack frowned slightly, "Should I remember you?" The man did not quite speak like the splicers he had seen. His tone of voice was more restrained, more orderly, yet still not normal, not sane.

"You spared me. Saved me, spared me. Ran through Rapture with such power, powerful." Memories flooded Jack's mind, masses of psychotics attacking him, screaming, bleeding, fleeing. "Was in a group. They attacked you, I stayed behind. Stayed behind, didn't attack. You killed them. You stared at me." The image flashed in Jack's mind's eye: A group of Houdini splicers surrounded him, attacking him, hurling fire and ice as they teleported around the room. When Jack had disposed of them all, he noticed one at the end of the hall, watching, analyzing. As Jack turned away, the figure was gone in a flash, never threatening Jack.

When the splicer paused, Jack cut in, "How did you get here? Up from Rapture."

The splicer fumbled with is words, "Built. Constructed a machine to fix me. Make me better. Stronger. Faster. Machine put me here. Here. Out. On land." The man's words made little sense to Jack. The man's voice quivered with urgency, "My fault, my machine. All my fault."

Jack shook his head, "I don't get it, what's all your fault?"

Suddenly, the little girl spoke, "Please Mr. He has trouble talking I think." Her eyes bore a sadness that was years ahead of her age.

Jack looked down at the girl, "What is he trying to tell me?"

The girl looked up at the man with a pity akin to the emotion that Jack showed her. The man looked down at her with a face of helplessness, much like that of a child. Finally, the girl spoke, "Mr. Bubbles and I were looking for an Angel, you see," The girl recounted her adventure through the halls of Rapture in search of corpses of splicers in which to harvest ADAM from. "We walked into the room and saw him," She motioned to the man, "He was standing next to this machine-"

"Machine fixed me. Fixed. Better. Fixed me so I can come. Come to land. Land-ho." The man cut in to offer clarity to the girl's story, though little clarity was actually taken from his statement.

The girl patiently waited for the man to finish before continuing, "He was standing next to a bright white light, like a big oval."

"Me. Better. Stronger. Made it to take me to land. Land. Above."

Jack's mind was beginning to tire of the simplistic recounting of events, "Ok, I get it. Machine made you better. So what? What's the point of this?"

For a moment, silence dominated the conversation. Finally, the man spoke, "Giant."

The girl looked up at him, then continued her story, "Mr. Bubbles was only trying to protect me. He thought the Mr. here was gonna hurt me, see." The girl's eyes seemed watery, "He ran at the man, but missed and hit the machine."

"Machine made me better. Fixed me. Machine fixed giant."

The girl's voice grew more shrill, "The machine… It did something to Mr. Bubbles. He started glowing, and there was lightning. Then he fell through the… oval…" Her voice trailed off.

Jack frowned, "The oval? What, like a portal?"

The man seemed to brighten at this, "Machine made me better. Stronger. Fixed me. Oval was my fault."

Jack stared at the man, "You made the portal?"

The man looked down, contemplating this, "Portal. Portal portal portal. Portal is oval." He looked up triumphantly to Jack, "Yes. Portal was my fault."

Jack looked at the man with new interest, "How did you make it?"

The man grew impatient, "Machine made me better. Fixed me. Better."

Jack's voice grew louder, "I don't know what that means!" Then, a pause. If this man was with the Houdini splicers, was he one as well? Had this machine augmented his powers? Had he opened a portal rather than simply teleporting? "Where did this portal go?"

The man smiled at not having to repeat himself again, "Portal. Portal my fault, portal goes here." Before Jack could wrack his mind for an explanation, a bright light began to glow behind him. He turned to face a bright white oval, filling his apartment with light. The man crossed in front of him, stepping beyond the threshold. Jack hesitated, then finally stepped through.

He expected something much more dramatic, a swirling, a rush of motion. Instead, he simply stepped from his tile floor to the concrete top of a building in downtown Sacramento, as if he had stepped into his living room.

The noise immediately caught his attention. Sirens filled the air as screams rang out, followed by a heavy groaning and crashing. Jack looked over the edge to stare down at a horrific monstrosity. Resembling a Big Daddy Bouncer, the monster was roaring and turning over cars, crashing into buildings, as if looking for something. Jack whirled onto the man, "What is that? How-"

The girl cut in, "The machine, Mr. The machine did something to Mr. Bubbles. Now he's mad. He might hurt people, Mr. Please-" Suddenly, the girl bent over, coughing and sputtering, a sickly red liquid dripping from her lips. Her fit grew violent, her small frame wracking from the seizure that gripped her. The man bent down to help her up.

Looking up at Jack, the man spoke, "Girl sick. Sick. Not good. Happened before. Sick." Jack noticed the improvement in coherency in the splicer's voice. He looked down at the girl who was standing, wiping her mouth.

"I'm sorry, Mr. It's been so long since I've seen an angel. It's got me sick."

Jack recognized the symptoms as withdrawal from ADAM. Daily, the Little Sisters in Rapture came into contact with splicer corpses to harvest ADAM from. From the extracted fluid, the girls would ingest it, and the sea slug implanted in their digestive system would separate the ADAM, and generate more. With too much time in between ADAM ingestion, the system would go through a withdrawal. Jack looked at his hand, which glowed in a white light in his veins. The only way to stop the seizures was to use the plasmid given to him by Tenenbaum all those years ago. The plasmid would send a shock through the girl's system, killing the sea slug and ending the symbiosis.

Jack reached out to the small girl, "I can help you." He took her hand, his hand glowing warmly.

The girl gasped as her head snapped back, the yellow hue leaving her eyes. She turned, pulling away from Jack, and fell onto her knees, coughing and sputtering until a large, green object slid from her mouth, landing on the ground with a sickening _Thump._

Jack smashed his heel into the mass, killing the slug. The girl looked up at him, "Thank you, Mr. Thank you so much." Jack only smiled.

Suddenly, the building shook, snapping the trio's attention back to the matter at hand. Jack looked down, electricity crackling around his hand, "You need to go to Tenenbaum. Do you know where she is?"

The man nodded, "Tenenbaum. Tenenbaum down below. Under land, down below." The man summoned a portal.

"Right, in Rapture. Take her with you." He motioned to the girl, "Keep her safe. I'll try to take care of this thing, but if I can't, Tenenbaum will know what to do."

The splicer turned to walk through the portal, but stopped as Jack spoke.

"Wait. Do you guys have names?"

The girl spoke first, "My name is Isabelle."

Jack nodded, "Isabelle, such a pretty name. And you?"

The splicer hesitated, then spoke, "Name. Name is me. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." The man looked surprised, even at himself.

Jack cocked his head, "Was that Shakespeare?"

The man frowned, "Name. What's in a name? My name. Name. Name is me. Is I." He looked up, "I is Michael."

Jack looked somewhat pleased with the man's dialogue, "Well, Michael, Godspeed." And with that, Jack leapt off the building, falling straight onto the creature's face plate. Michael turned and walked with the girl through the portal.

Ten stories below, a small, shriveled man pushed the wheeled remains of Michael's machine from the street, recognizing the genius in its creation.

[End of Chapter]


	3. Chapter 3

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter 3: Back to basics

(First of all, let me clarify: This story occurs current day. Therefore, the splicer is older, mid sixties to seventy. As is Tenenbaum, and Jack. Of course, Jack's aging process has, as I assume, been curbed from his plasmid splicing, as has the splicers. The Little Sisters and Big Daddies I see as being constants. They always exist, and biological aging has been curbed from so much biological interference. Of course, they are not immortal, and will one day die of malnutrition, disease, or physical harm, but the aging process is distorted. Needless to say, Rapture is skin and bones, and any life form living there either has amazing resilience, resourcefulness, or desperation. Any other questions about the Bioshock universe created, just email me, otherwise it should be answered in the story later. Also, I'm taking a break from writing until I get a few more reviews. So it's chapter 3 until someone tells me how it is! Kudos to those that have reviewed it!)

A figure roamed across the room, turning over paper after paper. He sniffed the desk, smelling the smoke. He finally turned away, finding nothing of interest, and began stalking back to the main hallway. He suddenly stopped in his tracks and spun to face another figure, bathed in white light.

Michael stepped forward, holding Isabelle back. He looked at the man as he began to walk towards Michael. He was extremely thin and gaunt; his hair was silvery and was cut in jagged lines. He held a wrench, his pistol having run out of ammunition years ago. The man raised his wrench above his head, "Food?" He grunted, his voice was rough with lack of use.

Michael held up his hands, "No food. Just passing through. Passing."

The man frowned, then caught sight of Isabelle, "Little Sister…" The man pointed with his wrench, then began muttering, "Adamadamadam. I need ADAM!" The man shouted, taking a step toward Michael and Isabelle.

Michael stepped forward, "No. No ADAM. Stop, no harm." Isabelle cowered behind him.

The man took another step forward, "Get back. Back back BACK! Adam adam adam!" The man began walking forward, "I NEED it! I need need need need it! Adam! ADA-"

The man's eyes twitched, losing focus. His mouth uttered silent words as he collapsed to the floor. A sickening _Squish _sounded as a grape-fruit sized object fell to the floor by Michael's hand. He stared at it with astonishment, realizing what he had done. Isabelle shuddered then turned away, seeing that it was a human brain.

Michael shook the feeling off and continued out of his office. He grasped Isabelle's hand awkwardly, "We need to find her. Tenenbaum. Need to find Tenenbaum." He led her into the hall.

The girl spoke softly, "Ok, she's this way." The girl pointed to their left, and the pair continued along the hallway. Fewer splicers occupied Rapture than when Jack had encountered the dystopia. Some shadows haunted the rooms across the halls, but many splicers kept to themselves, a trait that was slowly evolving over the years, a method of survival: that which was found alone was enjoyed alone.

Isabelle led Michael through corridor after corridor, a dark trail, twisting through the ocean-covered halls, covering a significant distance. Finally, in one of Rapture's broken down residence districts, Isabelle stopped at one apartment then pointed at the door, "Momma Tenenbaum is in there, Mr."

Michael flattened his damp hair, for the first time in years noticing his own appearance in the reflection of the brass door. His grey hair was now slicked back thanks to his efforts, and now did not hide his sunken eyes, aged with worry, insanity, and fear. His brown eyes were slightly bloodshot, grey stubble haphazardly shaved from his occasional efforts. His face was covered in wrinkles, as was much of his skin, and his teeth were a pale yellow color from age and lack of hygiene. Really it was a wonder he was not in worse shape from his living conditions.

Michael slowly reached out, then knocked on the door. Before his hand had hit the door twice, it slid open, revealing an elderly lady in an old-fashioned dress. Her wavy hair was whit, and her face was saggy and age-spotted. Her eyes were small and watery; the irises were a hazel color.

The lady waved her arm, "Come in, Michael." Her voice was weak and hoarse, but gentle at the same time. He could detect the German accent that hid in her speech. Michael and Isabelle crossed the threshold into the dimly lit apartment.

It was barren, very little furniture decorated it, the only dominating objects were books. Books lined the walls and crept onto every surface. In the middle of the living room sat a massive array for monitors, surrounded by papers covered in scribbles. The woman crossed into her living room and sat, offering the two guests a seat as well.

Finally, when the three were seated, Isabelle was the first to speak, "Hello, Mamma Tenenbaum." She grinned at the woman with such joy and innocence.

The woman smiled down at her, "Hello, darling. Isabelle, correct?"

The girl gasped in surprise, "You know my name? Out of all the other Little Sisters?"

Tenenbaum let out a small chuckle, "Of course, dear. I remember all my little girls' names." She then turned her attention to Michael, "Hello, Michael."

Michael did not know quite what to say, but spoke nonetheless, "Know me. You know me? My name?"

"Of course, Michael. There is very little in Rapture I do not know," Tenenbaum tapped the monitor in front of her and grinned, "I've seen you working on that machine over the past several years. And if I may say so, it seemed to work quite well."

Her compliment only increased Michael's feelings of awkwardness. Yet this time, pride warmed his heart as well, "Thank you. It fixed me. Fixed."

"That it did." Tenenbaum looked down at Isabelle, "And judging by your appearance, someone saved you, little one." She looked back at Michael, "But it could not have been you. Someone you met on the surface, for sure… But the only one who could have was…"

Michael finished her thought, "Jack. Jack Ryan. Jack."

Tenenbaum looked distracted for a moment, "Of course." A pause filled the room for a moment, then Tenenbaum spoke, "So what brings you two here? I rarely get visitors. Something to do with the surface, hmm?"

Michael began the explanation of events. He began with a very simple description of how his machine worked, and finished with telling her how Jack sent them to find her. After recounting his story, Michael looked expectantly at Tenenbaum.

Tenenbaum sat back, her eyes downcast, her brow furrowed. She finally spoke, "I would have to see this beast for myself, but I think I may understand how your machine works. Perhaps I can assist Jack with this knowledge." It was difficult to grasp the details of the science when Michael's explanations were so simple, so juvenile. "Can you take all of us to where you left Jack?" Tenenbaum asked.

Michael nodded, "Yes. Take you there. All of us."

Tenenbaum smiled kindly, "Alright, then why don't you-" Before she could finish her sentence, she was standing on a tall building, the breeze rustling her white hair. She froze in a moment of shock, being outside for the first time in decades. The woman had not seen pure sunlight since before her descent into Rapture, and she took several moments to appreciate it.

However, her moment of meditation was interrupted by a large groan as a hulking slammed into the building they stood on. Tenenbaum stared down upon the monster, who was attempting to stomp on a small man that threw flames and lightning up at it.

After several attempts, the monster roared, then grabbed its face as flame surrounded it. Yet even as the flames burned at its helmet, thin metal fibers repaired the damage as it was done. As a foot came down over the man again, he disappeared, materializing next to Michael.

Jack bent over his knees, "It… It keeps repairing itself… faster each time." Suddenly, he realized that Tenenbaum had joined the group, "Well hello again."

Tenenbaum smiled, "Hello, Jack. Good to see you again. Though I wish the circumstances were less… trying."

Jack just chuckled, "Tell me about it. I could be settling down with a nice book." He looked down at the rampaging monster, "You got any idea what this is? How to stop it."

Tenenbaum shook her head, "From what I understand, this machine he built… It seems to accentuate the genetic potential of an individual. I mean, if this was indeed a Big Daddy, we did manipulate their DNA to be stronger, more resilient, heal better…" Her voice trailed off.

Jack sighed, "So you have no idea how to stop it?"

"Sadly, no." Tenenbaum hung her head.

Suddenly, Michael spoke up, "I can stop it." The simple, concise sentence made everyone turn to him. He looked at them, "I can do it." He said again.

Tenenbaum only stared, "I guess whatever the machine does… The effect continues."

Michael looked down, "I can stop it. I can stop the Big Daddy." Then, he was gone.

The other three ran to the edge to watch intently at the battle. But there was no battle. One minute, the monster was roaring and swinging its arms, the next minute its body began falling apart as its head suddenly disappeared. The body fell to the ground in writhing masses of metal and flesh.

Suddenly, Michael appeared back on the roof, calmly looking down at the deteriorating mass in the street. Jack and Tenenbaum stared astonished at Michael, as Isabelle only whispered, "Mr. Bubbles…"

Michael looked at the others, "I stopped it." He stepped back, not knowing what to do.

Jack was the first to speak, "Michael… Did you teleport that thing's head?"

Michael nodded slowly, "Yes."

"To where, Michael?" Tenenbaum asked.

Suddenly, the group was gone again, suddenly appearing in a very large room in Rapture. The tile glistened in the pale light as the group looked around for anything resembling the creature they faced in the streets.

A soft groaning sounded from around a corner, followed by the heavy clanking of what sounded like bars hitting the ground. A little voice pierced the air, "Let's go find an angel, Mr. Bubbles." The head of the giant stepped around the corner, the bars that swiveled around the helmet now acted as legs, keeping it erect, crawling in front of a small blonde girl in a little purple dress.

"Mein Gott." Tenenbaum whispered. The group watched in amazement as the monster's head filled the role of a Big Daddy perfectly. "It can survive without a body." Tenenbaum kept analyzing the occurrence. "All it wanted was a Little Sister to protect." For a while, the three watched as the pair crossed the room, exiting out another door.

Michael was the first to speak, "I fixed it. It was my fault and I fixed it."

"That you did, Michael." Jack grabbed Michael's shoulder, "I can think of many ways this could have ended much worse."

Tenenbaum chuckled, "I feel pretty obsolete. You didn't even need me." Then she quickly turned to Jack, "We need to find that machine."

Jack nodded, "Michael, take us to the streets, that machine needs to be found."

Michael nodded, then stepped onto the asphalt, gazing across the crowds. Jack raised a hand to his eyes, blocking the sun. Rubble and bodies covered the streets, the metallic mass that had composed the monster was strewn about the mess. Isabelle, being on a major street in the outside world for the first time, grabbed onto Michael's hand. Michael looked down at the small, frightened child, then grinned, squeezing her hand for comfort.

For a few minutes the group fanned out, searching for any sign of the contraption that had brought the carnage to the city streets. After a while of searching under the close scrutiny of the gathering crowds, Jack finally decided, "It's not here, is it Michael?"

Michal shook his head, "It's gone. Could have been destroyed."

"Well, let's hope so. We can't exactly go around looking for it door to door." For a moment, the group shared a somewhat awkward silence. Finally, Jack ended it, "Well, I am going home." He glanced at Michael, then at Isabelle, "Look, I'm… I'm living by myself. I thought I left Rapture behind."

Tenenbaum cut in, "You never leave Rapture behind, Jack. None of us do."

"Even so, I don't know what to tell you guys, but… I'm not looking for any roommates." Jack turned away.

"I understand, Jack." Michael reassured Jack, "I'll send you home."

Jack looked at Michael, "Thanks. And… Good luck with, well… Getting by our here. It's tough."

Michael nodded grimly, then blinked. Jack was gone. Michael looked down at Isabelle, his eyes sad. He squeezed her hand again, feeling a kinship, a primal need to care for the child. He looked at Tenenbaum, "I don't know where to go. I'm free, but I don't know where to go."

Tenenbaum smiled, "Well, I can offer you room and board, but it's at the place you worked so hard to leave."

Michael shook his head, "I don't know. I don't know what to do with my freedom. I… I don't remember much of my life before Rapture." He looked down at Isabelle, "And, well, what about her?"

Tenenbaum nodded, "Why don't we set up a place in the apartment district? A little utopia for us. I'm sure with a little elbow grease we can carve out a little niche for ourselves." She smiled warmly at Isabelle, "Would you like that?"

Isabelle grinned, "Oh yes, mamma Tenenbaum." She looked up at Michael, "Are you gonna come, Mr.?"

Michael returned her smile, "Of course."

[End of Chapter]


	4. Chapter 4

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter 4 – A Slice of Heaven

The fallen Rapture, the Rapture that had decayed into this nest of psychotics and egomaniacs, was never known to be clean. It was never linked in memory with love, warmth, or tenderness. Yet, if one only saw the area that Michael, Isabelle, and Doctor Bridgette Tenenbaum resided in, one would never guess that Rapture could be a cruel, harsh place.

Olympus Heights was a large living area devoted to apartments and suites for the higher class of Rapture. Sealed from other branches, as was every other section of Rapture, Olympus Heights looked nothing like the rest of the underwater city. Trees began to bloom in the small atriums, the tile sparkled, and the clean windows brought in the soft blue glow of the ocean. Over the past few months, the three residents had painstakingly made themselves a paradise to live in, and permanently sealed the doors that led to other areas.

Tenenbaum, not having touched her bank accounts since entering Rapture, had left quite a sum of money gaining interest. Michael had the idea to utilize this money to better their living area. A generator provided a more stable energy source, and modern utilities filled their suite. New clothes and furniture decorated the rooms, and every other Tuesday Michael and Isabelle would journey to the surface to purchase groceries or any other item that was needed.

Michael and Isabelle had grown closer as time went on, Isabelle having mentally matured quite rapidly. They seemed quite like father and daughter, though more so out of the bond of being outcasts. Tenenbaum schooled Isabelle, using purchased books and supplies to keep a fast-paced education. Isabelle had no friends but Michael and Tenenbaum, but did not mind it at all.

Michael devoted much of his time to research, often locked away in his room while Isabelle was with Tenenbaum, or even afterwards. He would spend hours in his office, not eating or venturing out to speak with anyone. While his speech and intellect was improving, he was still an introvert, prone to isolating himself.

One Tuesday afternoon, Isabelle skipped down the hall towards Michael's office, humming to herself. Knocking on the door, she spoke, "Papa Michael? We have to go to the store!" Isabelle looked forward to her journeys to the surface. Being her only other encounter with humans, she enjoyed the interaction, but grew restless if over-exposed to it.

"Papa Michael! It's already two in the afternoon!" She knocked again.

The door cracked open, yet no light appeared to be on in the office. Michael stepped out, "I'm sorry, Isabelle. I got wrapped up in my work. Are you ready?" He shrugged on a jacket and placed his hat on his head.

Isabelle curtseyed in a blazing yellow sundress, her hair in a short braid, "Yes I am, Papa Michael." She took his hand, "Let's go!"

Michael squeezed her hand as the stepped onto the curb in front of a large grocery store. The place was bustling, and crammed full of people. Michael and Isabelle stepped easily through the shoppers, and set off to gather their groceries.

About halfway through the shopping excursion, Michael noticed that the store had begun to quiet down. As he turned a corner, he saw several gunmen at the front of the store, holding up the man cashiers. Grabbing Isabelle, he vanished, reappearing at the back of the store.

He kneeled in front of Isabelle, "Isabelle, I want you to stay here until I come to get you, alright?"

Isabelle frowned, "What's wrong, Papa?"

Michael spoke quietly, "There are some bad men that could hurt you. I need you to stay here."

Bad men were by far not new to Isabelle. Living with splicers at every turn, she knew how evil men could be. However, Michael was speaking as if to leave her, "But where are you going?"

Michael glanced over his shoulder, "I'm going to stop them, Isabelle."

Isabelle's eyes watered slightly, "Are you coming back?"

"Of course, Isabelle. I will come back." And in a flash, he was gone.

At the front of the store, the customers were face down, lying on their stomachs. Michael stepped around one of the aisles, watching a gunman go from register to register, collecting money. One of the thugs noticed Michael, "Hey! Hey you! Get down on the ground."

Michael stepped closer, eyeing the gunman.

"Hey old man! You hear me? Get down or I'll shoot!"

"Put down the weapon, son." Michael spoke calmly, holding out his arm towards the gunman.

The gunman stood his ground, "Look, man, get down or I'll shoot. I'll do it!" His voice grew desperate as Michael stepped closer. Finally, the man decided Michael had come close enough. His hand tightened as his pistol shot off three rounds.

Michael did not move, yet he seemed to flicker for a moment. The shots rang out, and Michael still stood. "Son, put down the weapon."

The gunman's eyes looked wildly up and down Michael's form. Seeing no blood, the gunman also did not see the bottle of bleach leaking behind Michael, the substance pouring from three bullet holes. In a panic, the man squeezed the trigger again, but released his hand as his eyes lost focus. He dropped to his knees, then collapsed.

Next to the fallen gunman, his brain materialized. The other gunman had been watching, and now had reached a panic. They all turned their weapons to Michael, shouting obscene threats. Michael merely shook his head slowly, his gaze dropping. Before any shots could be fired, the other thugs met a similar fate.

Michael gazed at the sight, then at the people. It was difficult to tell if they were more relieved he had saved them, or more horrified at what he had done. Either way, few moved at first, instead they eyed the brains that lie on the floor, then looking back at Michael. Suddenly, a shot rang out, causing short screams as the shoppers fell again to the floor.

Michael turned as a short man stepped towards him. He was portly, a round belly protruded over his belt, and his face was round and shriveled, numerous wrinkles covering it. His thinning gray hair was combed in a makeshift comb over, and his watery eyes were small and calculating. He aimed his pistol at Michael, "I knew I would find you one day."

Michael eyed the man, studying him, "Who are you?"

"I am the man who took your machine, splicer." He grinned as Michael's face formed a shocked expression. "Oh yes, I know what you are. I just so happened to see you on the street that day when you brought along some friends." The man's pistol stayed pointed at Michael.

"What do you want from me? And what do you have to do with the heist?"

The short, shriveled man chuckled, "Money is money, dear friend. Money makes the world go round. And as for you…" His voice trailed off as he raised his arm. The sleeve of his jacket covered it, but the smoothness began to ripple and pulse. Suddenly, hundreds of wasps began crawling out, surrounding the pair. "Oh yes, I've used your machine. After I repaired it of course."

The insects swarmed around Michael and the man, growing in number until the outside grew impossible to see. The buzzing pulsed in the air, covering the conversation. The man continued, "Yet, as I am sure you have noticed, something is wrong with it." Michael searched the man's face, not revealing another bout of shock from hearing another reach the same conclusion that Michael's research had led him to. "It's unstable. And I need your help to fix it."

Michael's face became unreadable, "Why would I do that?"

"Because," The man whispered, "We could rule this world. You and I." He squinted and revealed a clean, dazzling smile, "You may not remember, we could have ruled Rapture."

Michael's poker face gave out as confusion took over. "I don't know you."

"I figured as much. You stayed to long. The psychosis took you. You don't remember anything that happened, do you Dr. Michael Steinman?"

The man's words hung in the buzzing air. Michael searched his memory, but to no avail. "Yes, I was good friends with you and your brother, John. He was quite a doctor. I finally found him in Rapture after hiring that private detective. Found both of you, actually." He smiled, then held his arm up, admiring it. "Quite glad I did. Too bad you both lost it. Though, some worse than others." He dropped his arm, "I can still hear him, 'Aesthetics are a moral imperative!' He was always shallow." The man stared back at Michael, "Whatever happened to him? Or do you remember."

"He was killed." Michael spoke with a bitter tone, recalling one of the first memories. He was running down a hall when another splicer caught up with him. "Hey! You hear that? That new guy killed Ol' Steinman!" The words struck Michael with a hollow sadness. He didn't know why he should be sad, only that it was what he should be. Now he knew.

"Well it figures. Anyway, I need your help, and you're going to help me."

Michael's gaze has hardened, "And if I don't?"

The man grinned, "Then you're in trouble. You think I'm the only one who came back to the surface with plasmids? I'll find others. I'll make myself an army. And I'll find you and force you to come. And if you don't, I'll tear it out of your brain." A stinging feeling crawled over Michael. He realized the insects were nipping at his skin. He shot a bolt of freezing air at the man, but the man vanished in a cloud of insects.

Behind him, the swarm congregated and condensed, forming into a human shape, then materializing into a man. The short, shriveled man held no gun now, "You'll change your mind." He reached into his pocket, "Take a card." An insect crawled into his hand, then leapt into Michael's. It was a small wasp. It twitched, then fell over, its body turning white, then spreading out into a paper business car. On it read: _Dr. Richard Clerkwell_, a phone number was printed beneath. When Michael looked up, the swarm of insects was already floating out the door.

He looked around at a rather shell-shocked group of shoppers. A swat team began filing through the doors. Noticing the dead thugs, the swat crouched and took aim at Michael. Tuning out their threats, Michael disappeared before a bullet could reach him.

He appeared before Isabelle, "We have to go home early, Isabelle." He spoke in a toneless voice; his mind was on another plane.

Isabelle frowned, "But we didn't pay for our groceries…"

Michael patted her head as he grabbed the shopping cart, "I don't think they'll mind, dear." And they were gone.

Hours later, Michael stood in his office, gazing at the wall. It was covered in papers; the papers in turn were covered with scribbling of complex math problems, images of magnified DNA, sketches of the machine. Michael scratched his head, the business card in his left hand. He fell to his knees, then touched his cheek, feeling the warmth of tears: a feeling his had not felt for some time. He looked at his hand, then noticed the tip of his pointer finger. It flickered, as if flashing in and out of existence. Then it stopped. He looked up at his sketches and mathematics, and frowned. He grabbed a pen and began scribbling furiously, the language of math flowing onto the paper. As he scribbled, frowned, deep in thought. When he looked up at one of the sketches, his wall was gone. Completely. He looked through to the living room, a solid, clean cut going through the wall. He turned around, searching the room, then looked back at his wall. It had reappeared. Shaking his head, he put his pen down. He walked to the door and turned out the light. "Tomorrow," He muttered. "A problem for tomorrow."

[End of Chapter]


	5. Chapter 5

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter 5 – Drawing the Line

Isabelle sat in the living room with Tenenbaum, a book sprawled on her lap, the daily reading exercise wrapping up. As Isabelle finished reading, she closed the book and smiled up at Tenenbaum, "How did I do today?" She asked, just as she did every day.

Tenenbaum returned the smile, "Better than yesterday, dear," Came the same response.

Isabelle placed the book on the table and hopped off of the couch. "Thank you Mama Tenenbaum."

"You're welcome, Isabelle." Tenenbaum stood and walked towards the kitchen, "While I get dinner ready, perhaps you should check on Michael? He hasn't come out of his office in two days."

Isabelle began skipping down the hall, "Okay, Mama Tenenbaum!" Isabelle skipped the whole way to Michael's door, then stopped and knocked very gently, "Papa Michael?" She leaned to the door, listening for a response. When she got none, she knocked again, louder this time, "Papa Michael! It's Isabelle!" As if there was any doubt to the owner of the small voice.

Suddenly, an enraged roar sounded from the room. The door swung open, and Michael stood in the frame, but not the Michael that existed two days ago. The Michael that stood before Isabelle was haggard and dirty. Dust and grime covered him, his eyes were wild and crazed, his hair rustled over his head. His shirt was open and torn, with complete holes covering it. The left side of his face was covered in a makeshift mask made of paper and tape.

He leaned from the office, "Isabelle, I can't come out right now. You need to walk away."

Isabelle, being naïve to his frazzled appearance, frowned. "What's wrong Papa? Come out and sit with Mama Tenenbaum and me!"

Michael took a step back, something was wrong with his hand, and it was spreading to the door. "No, Isabelle. Not right now. I can't come out, alright?"

Isabelle stepped to Michael, "Please?" She whined.

Michael threw his arms out, "No." Isabelle disappeared, only to fall onto her chair at the kitchen table.

Isabelle leaned onto her hands as Michael's door shut, "I think Papa Michael is mad at me."

***

Michael paced in his office, swearing under his breath. He glanced around the room as papers on the wall randomly disappeared and reappeared around the room. He tried to keep track of them all, keep them from teleporting, but there were too many moving too fast. He stared at the middle of the wall where a flawless sketch of his machine stood. He stepped towards it, murmuring constantly. Suddenly, he noticed he could see his breath.

"No no no!" He growled, grabbing his hair, "It's getting worse!" He looked at his hands as ice crystals began forming about the small hairs on his knuckles. He began pacing again, his murmuring more hurried, his tone more frantic. Suddenly, a loud explosion shook the room. It had come from outside the building, somewhere in the lobby of Olympus Heights.

Michael appeared on the balcony of their apartment, gazing at a large mass of flames as a white oval spread the flames apart. Out stepped a man, hunched and shaking, a collar around his neck. A leash was attached to the collar, resting in the hand of a man. The man stepped through the portal behind the man. It was Clerkwell.

Michael watched as the hunched man, most likely a splicer, gazed around the large lobby. He heard Tenenbaum walking through the door to the balcony behind him. The splicer turned and pointed at Isabelle, "adamadamadam…." His chant was low and continuous. Clerkwell yanked on the leash, the splicer grew silent.

Behind Clerkwell entered two men. One was a tall, lanky man with short, spiked blonde hair. Electricity crackled around him as he folded his arms, staring at Michael. The other man was also tall, but broad and muscular. His head, however, was his defining feature. It was slightly enlarged, devoid of hair. Clerkwell smiled up at Michael, spreading his arms, "I told you I would find you." He gestured towards the chained splicer, "Turns out you leave a little trail when you teleport. My little friend just followed you."

The portal closed, leaving the ground around the men smoldering. Clerkwell handed the leash to the man with the enlarged cranium and spoke to Michael again, "Won't you come down and talk?"

Michael got straight to business, "If I help you…" His voice trailed off.

Clerkwell cocked his head, "Yes?"

Michael cleared his throat, "If I help you, what's in it for me?"

Clerkwell laughed, "Besides living? Well, I assume you will want to use the machine, since you yourself seem a little… unstable? What's with the mask? Accidentally teleport part of your face off?"

Michael glared at Clerkwell, "Actually, yes."

Clerkwell shook his head, "Should have come to me sooner. If you help me, I will let you stabilize yourself, then come back to Rapture and live out your little life."

Michael eyed Clerkwell for some time before replying, "And what will you do?"

Clerkwell smirked, dropping his arms, "What those with power are destined to do: rule."

Michael looked at Tenenbaum, who held Isabelle. Both stared at Michael, Tenenbaum shook her head, Isabelle showed only fear in her face. Michael turned to Clerkwell, "I'll need time to think about it."

Clerkwell's smirk left his face. "Think about it? You don't have a choice. One way or another, we will get your knowledge." He gestured towards the man with the enlarged cranium. "Of course, it's easier if you give us the information willingly."

Michael stood strong, "Then let me decide if I want to give you the help voluntarily." He motioned to the splicer, "Have your pet take you home, give me a day."

Clerkwell paused, then snapped his fingers at the splicer. A bright oval exploded in front of them. "A day, Steinman. One day." The group stepped through the portal, leaving the ground scorched.

Michael turned towards Tenenbaum, who spoke to Isabelle, "Dear, would you go make sure the Alfredo sauce isn't burning?" Isabelle, getting the hint, hurried into the apartment. Tenenbaum leaned against the balcony railing, "Michael…" She sighed, "What are you thinking of doing?"

Michael gazed into the ocean through the wall of windows, "I need the machine. I'm…" He touched his mask, "Losing myself. I need to stabilize my genetic potential." He gripped the bar tightly, his arms covered in frost. "I know what they'll do with it, though." He grimaced, grunting quietly. Suddenly, the banister disappeared, and Michael fell towards the marble floor.

Tenenbaum cried out, grabbing after Michael. Michael was lost in the pain of the uncontrollable teleporting around him. Before he hit the ground, Michael was gone. Tenenbaum covered her mouth with a yelp. She watched, waiting for Michael to reappear, but he didn't. Suddenly, she saw a figure convulsing in the ocean beyond the windowed wall. Her eyes grew wide as she realized it was Michael.

She felt like screaming, but found no voice. She watched powerless as Michael convulsed, iced shards floating around the cooling water, his body shimmering in and out of existence. Finally, he stopped moving, then stopped existing. His body fell to the floor at Tenenbaum's feet, his eyes wide with fear, his mouth spewing seawater into the air.

She grabbed Michael and pulled him onto his feet, leaning him onto the now restored banister. He coughed and sputtered, dripping wet. He finally looked into Tenenbaum's sad eyes. She spoke gently to him, "How often does this happen?"

Michael wiped his mouth, "Just one other time in the past two days. I ended up in Egypt for a little while. Of course, some of my belongings have gone missing." He shook his head fiercely. "I've just been so afraid that something might happen to you or Isabelle. I just… Can't live with being responsible for it."

"You love her, don't you?" Tenenbaum placed a hand on his shoulder. "Isabelle. You love her."

Michael looked up at the glass, noticing the ice he had left in the water. "She's like the daughter I never had. Or, hell, did have but don't remember. She's young, but she'll grow now since Jack took that slug thing out of her. She needs someone to help her become a person. She can't stay… here," He looked around the lobby, "Forever. I may not remember much, but I used to live up there."

"That's an awful lot of pressure to put on yourself." Tenenbaum smiled. "The raising of a child is quite a task for an older man."

Michael chuckled, "Well, for some reason the machine seems to have slowed, or almost stopped my aging process. I don't seem to know all of the effects of it. I guess I was a little shortsighted when I was out of my mind." He paused, hanging his head, then looked at Tenenbaum, "I have to help them. I have to help them for my sake. And for Isabelle's."

Tenenbaum gave a half-hearted smile, "It's up to you, Michael. You know what they'll do, though. And no one will be able to stop them. The outside world wasn't built for the plasmid-induced."

"I know. But maybe I could stop them."

"By yourself?"

"I could try. The only other person who might help has already showed a lack of interest in our affairs." Jack was still residing in his Sacramento apartment, unaware of Michael's problems, and most likely uninterested. "I have no idea how many people Clerkwell actually has for his cause, and how loyal they are."

Tenenbaum just shook her head, "It's up to you, Michael. But if you need any help with anything, I will help in any way I can."

Suddenly, Isabelle burst through the door, "I'll help too, Papa! I'll help too!"

Michael grinned as Isabelle ran into his arms. He squatted down and embraced her, "How long were you listening?"

Isabelle looked up at Michael, "Well… After I took the sauce off the burner, I came to tell you that dinner was ready when I heard Mama Tenenbaum scream. I peeked through the door and watched the rest."

Michael held Isabelle close, "Oh, sweetie." He used the pet name for the first time. He looked up at Tenenbaum with watery eyes, "Everything is going to be alright. I promise."

The three entered the apartment somberly, their conversation held a sad tone.

***

The next day seemed darker. Less sunlight seemed to shine through the water; a cloud seemed to hang in the air. Michael stood outside the apartment complex in Olympus Heights, waiting for his visitor. He wore his traveling coat and hat, his makeshift mask bound tightly on his head, his stance tall and solid. Tenenbaum and Isabelle stood on the balcony high above him, looking down on the lobby.

A flame erupted in the middle of the floor, revealing Clerkwell and his splicer pet. Michael did not move as Clerkwell approached him, "So? Have you reached a decision, Doctor?" Clerkwell stood aside as his two minions entered the portal behind him.

Michael looked Clerkwell directly in the eye, "I will help you fix the machine."

Clerkwell grinned, "Well that's good to hear." He snapped his fingers, and the two men moved towards Michael.

"I don't need an escort, Clerkwell." Michael stated.

The men paused, then looked to Clerkwell who nodded his head. They stepped back as Clerkwell motioned to the portal, "Let's go."

Michael followed the group through the flames, looking back at Isabelle. He winked as the portal disappeared.

Isabelle turned to Tenenbaum, "Is it time, Mama Tenenbaum?"

Tenenbaum smiled, "Yes, Isabelle. It's time." They walked back into the apartment, then exited out onto the ground floor. Tenenbaum was now armed with various firearms as they approached the seal to the next section. Tenenbaum entered a code, causing the door to slide open. She led Isabelle down the dark hall.

***

Michael gazed around the vacant warehouse until his eyes fell on his machine. It was distorted now, repaired with makeshift pieces sine the Big Daddy disaster. He walked towards it, feeling a sense of nostalgia. His hand felt the smooth glass tube, vibrating with the idling power from the generator.

"I repaired it to the best of my abilities, but I can't figure out how to get it to stabilize our genetic structure." Clerkwell paced around the machine, watching Michael's every move.

Michael opened up a control panel, "I think I know what went wrong. I've been studying it for some time now." His hand ran along the controls, turning this switch, pushing that button, destroying some components completely.

Clerkwell's gaze never left Michael. His form seemed to pulse with a slow rhythm, a steady humming emanating from him.

Finally, Michael stood, "Finished."

"It's going to work?"

Michael's gaze met Clerkwell's, "Yes."

Clerkwell grinned, "Good, because you're first."

Clerkwell stood by the control panel as Michael approached the machine, laying his hat and coat on the ground. He entered the glass chamber and shut it. He stood tall and gazed out beyond the men. "Start it."

Clerkwell nodded at the blonde man, who then gripped the generator. He shot electricity from his form, amplifying the generator's output, throwing energy into the chamber. Michael's form lit up as electricity and other, almost arcane energies shot through his form. He cried out in pain as his back arched. He pressed against the chamber, his form shaking. Ice began forming in the tube then creeping outward. The temperature in the warehouse was falling rapidly.

***

Isabelle and Tenenbaum snuck down the dark halls, avoiding anyone they saw. Tenenbaum had not had to use force yet, but she was ready to. Finally, they saw their target. It was alone, slowly lurking towards a small porthole in the wall. Isabelle jumped out as it raised a metal tentacle to knock at the wall.

"Mr. Bubbles?" She asked innocently. The figure turned towards her. It stood on a number of metal tentacles, its body was a large helmet with many lighted glass portholes. It groaned loudly at seeing Isabelle, then walked to her side. It paused upon noticing Tenenbaum, but Isabelle reassured it, "That's a friend, Mr. Bubbles. She's a good friend." The creature seemed to take her word as fact. Its menacing stance subsided as it fell in line behind Isabelle. Isabelle turned to Tenenbaum, "Back home now?"

Tenenbaum nodded, her eyes never leaving the creature.

***

Michael's form fell out of the machine, and tumbled to the ground, steam coming from his warm body into the freezing warehouse. As he lay motionless, the men's eyes watched expectantly at Michael.

Suddenly, Michael appeared by the machine. His mask was gone, his face now repaired, and he looked healthier than ever. He rested his hand on the control panel of the machine, "Now that I have been fixed, I must depart," He gripped the control panel, "With my machine."

Clerkwell stared at Michael, "Not a wise decision, Steinman." A bolt of electricity hit Michael before he could react. He flew across the room and slammed into a pillar. He crumpled as the men circled him. Clerkwell raised a pistol to his head, "Sorry, friend, but there is no place in our world for you."

As Clerkwell clicked off the safety, a bright light appeared behind him. A loud metallic groan filled the room as Clerkwell turned to face the portal. His face registered a reaction of shock, "What the hell is that?"

[End of Chapter]


	6. Chapter 6

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter 6 – The Grand Unveiling

(As my story is taking off, I feel the need to include the following disclaimer. As you can see, this story may be destined to include some major players.)

-The following story is fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental-

Police Chief Manny Keller sat at his desk, his mind on overload from the mass amount of casework dominating his desk. He slumped onto his desk, his weariness overcoming him. Suddenly, his door opened revealing an officer.

"Hey, Chief!" We got some reports on power fluctuations down off of fifth. Some kinda weird noises, too. You want us to check it out?"

The Chief looked up from his hopeless paper tower, "Yeah, I'll go too." He grabbed his jacket and followed the officer down the hallway to the parking lot. "Anything to get out of the office for a while."

***

Clerkwell froze, staring at the head of the giant. His pistol quivered, pointed at the monstrosity. "What the hell is that?" He stated again, louder this time. Michael stood against the pillar, folding his arms.

"The remnants of what I brought through with me to the surface." He appeared next to Isabelle, his hand on her shoulder. "I am taking the machine, and you cannot stop me."

Clerkwell glanced at the blonde man, then smirked, "I wouldn't be too sure." He burst into a swarm of insects as a lightning bolt slammed into the creature's helmet, pitching it up on only two legs. It roared, then charged after the blonde man. The man leapt to the side with uncanny speed, then threw another bolt into the underside of the creature.

Michael threw his hands towards the swarm that was Clerkwell. Before he could pull the mass into a portal, it flew away faster than Michael could move the vacuum, and scattered too far apart to keep track of. Michael turned to face the man with the large head, but he was gone. Suddenly, a seizing pain filled his head as he turned to his other side, the man with the large head was staring at him. He knelt to the ground, focusing on his own form. He held one thought out as his vision was clouded with pain. Then he was gone.

He appeared behind the man, throwing frost about his cranium, causing him to cry out and crumple to the ground, rubbing his head fiercely for warmth. Michael turned to search for Clerkwell, avoiding stray lightning bolts and swinging metal wires. He heard Tenenbaum cry out. He turned to her, but she was pointing towards his machine.

Inside the glass tube was Isabelle. She was screaming frantically, banging on the glass, tears streaming down her face. Clerkwell stood at the control panel, his hand hovering over the controls. He grinned, then shouted over the noise, "Don't move, Steinman."

The blonde man turned, the creature frozen, staring at Isabelle. It let out a bestial wail, beginning to charge. Michael turned quickly and held up an arm, desperately hoping the monster would stop. Somehow, as if understanding the situation, the former Big Daddy overrode its primary mental programming and heeded Michael's warning.

Michael stared at Clerkwell, "What are you doing, Clerkwell?"

Clerkwell smirked, "You don't know what this would do to someone like her, do you?" he tapped the control panel, causing the generator to hum as it warmed up. "I'm taking the machine, Steinman. I will give the girl back when the machine is safely in my care."

Michael took a step forward, "Don't do this, Clerkwell. She's a girl."

Clerkwell shook his head, "No she isn't, Steinman. She's a monster." He studied Michael's face, "Ah. But she's your monster." He turned to Isabelle, chuckling, "How sweet. Then let me take the machine."

Michael froze, the situation seeming hopeless. He hung his head, "Clerkwell, please. Don't-"

A man shouted, "Freeze! No one move!" Michael turned to face police officer pointing his gun at Clerkwell. At least they were aiming at the right man.

Clerkwell looked at Michael, "You've been talking to the surface police?" His voice rose in anger. He motioned to the blonde man, who in turn began charging electricity around him.

Michael cried out desperately, "No! I swear, I've got nothing to do with this!"

"I said freeze!" The policeman cocked his gun. The noise seemed to echo until Michael realized that the warehouse was infested with lawmen.

Michael turned to face the policeman, "There's been a misunderstanding." He raised his hands, "If you could just-" A shot rang out, flying past Michael, into the pillar behind them.

Clerkwell cried out, and the blonde man threw lightning into the generator. Isabelle cried out as the energy surged through the tube. The police force froze, staring at the science project come to life. Michael's heartbeat quickened. He threw his arms towards Isabelle, but he couldn't pull her from the energy's grip. He threw himself into the tube and grasped her fragile frame, the energy surging through both of their forms. He stared straight ahead, then appeared outside of the machine. Isabelle crumpled into Michael's arms. Tenenbaum held out her arms and took her as the creature stared at Isabelle.

Slowly, a tentacle stroked her cheek. The creature looked at Michael, "Will she be alright?"It's voice was deep and metallic.

Michael stared at Isabelle, "I'm not sure." He seemed completely ignorant of the sudden speech abilities of the monstrosity. He looked up at the helmet, "I'm going to send the three of you back to Rapture." He looked at Tenenbaum, "I will return when I can." He raised his arms, then looked at the monster, "What do I call you?"

The monster froze, "I have never been called anything."

Michael looked away, "I'll call you Biggs." He looked away as the trio disappeared. He searched for Clerkwell, but he knew he would have disappeared in the time it took Michael to secure Isabelle. He turned to find nothing but a giant, smoldering area in the middle of the warehouse. He turned to face the multiple pistols pointed at him.

He raised his hands and spoke slowly, "I need to speak with your superior."

The policeman who had first spoken now trembled, "Get down on the ground!"

Michael stared straight ahead, "I need to speak with your superior."

A husky man stepped beside the police officer, "That'd be me."

Michael locked eyes with the man, "And what is your rank?"

"Police chief." The man replied, studying Michael.

"I'm afraid I need to speak to someone higher up on the food chain."

The man raised his eyebrows, "And who did you have in mind?"

Michael spoke slowly, "The Secretary of Defense."

The police chief started chuckling, "And what makes you think I'm going to get you in to see the Secretary of Defense?"

Michael raised his arms. Instantly, all of the weapons in the room disappeared from their owner's hands and clattered to the ground at Michael's feet. Michael stared at the man, "Because there really is no way to stop me from seeing him."

***

Secretary of Defense Erik Jackson was a 51-year-old man, widowed with no children. He was a young-spirited man, humble by nature and well spoken. He was of medium build, with short graying hair and lively eyes. He was extremely well groomed. Today, he sat in his office reviewing the latest troop movements overseas. He began scribbling notes when the line from the front desk rang. He sighed, placed his pen on the desk and picked up the receiver.

"This is Jackson." The voice on the other end was frantic, but clear. Jackson frowned, "Who am I speaking to? What's going on? He wants to speak with me? Who is 'he?' What do you mean 'powers?' Is he dangerous?" The Secretary of Defense sighed, "Alright, we'll have him detained and brought here."

"That won't be necessary."

Jackson jumped, then reached for the emergency call button under his desk.

Michael raised he hand, "Please remain calm. I'm the man that wished to speak you."

Jackson paused, then placed down the phone, "What makes you think you can barge into a federal building like this? Who do you think you are? And how did you get in here?"

Michael sat opposite the Secretary's desk, "I have certain abilities, Mr. Secretary. They allow me to teleport."

Jackson raised his eyebrow, "Are you feeling alright, son?

Michael felt somewhat indignant about Jackson calling him 'son.' Especially since he was probably a good ten years older than the Secretary. "Mr. Secretary, are you familiar with a place called 'Rapture?' "

Jackson leaned back in his chair, "I've heard of it."

"Mr. Secretary, this conversation will go much more smoothly if we are honest with each other."

The Secretary of Defense locked eyes with Michael, "We know it was a city built by a wealthy philanthropist known as Andrew Ryan. We know that many uncontrolled science experiments went on down there, and we know that any citizen that has returned has never come back the same."

The air was silent for a time, them Michael spoke, "If you know about it, then why not go down and retrieve the science buried under there, and rescue the citizens left?"

"Because we have been unable to find it. Wherever it is, it is extremely well hidden."

"Well, Mr. Secretary, I am a citizen of Rapture. My name is-" Michael paused for a moment, then drew in a breath, "My name is Dr. Michael Steinman."

The Secretary of Defense reached across the table, "The name is Erik Jackson." As they shook hands, Jackson asked, "So why are you here today, Doctor?"

Michael leaned back, "Please, call me Michael." He sighed, then began his story. He recounted the invention of the machine, his first encounter with the surface, even the monstrosity he helped Jack to defeat. He spoke of returning to Rapture, the remodeling of his living space, even the relationship between Tenenbaum, Isabelle, and himself. He told of his meeting with Clerkwell, and up to his use of the machine and Clerkwell's escape. When it was all said, Michael waited for a reaction.

Jackson leaned onto his desk, "So what does this have to do with me?"

Michael's voice grew hard, "Mr. Secretary, I believe this has to do with everyone. Clerkwell had power, and he has the means to soon have followers."

Jackson sighed, "And you think this is a threat to our safety?"

"No, Mr. Secretary. I know this is a threat to our safety. He will gain more followers, and attempt to seize power any way that he can."

The Secretary of Defense rubbed his eyes, "Well, this all makes for a great story, but how can I believe you?"

Michael only stared, "I'll return when you do." In a flash of ice, he was gone.

***

Tenenbaum sat next to Isabelle's bed, dabbing her forehead with a cold cloth. She had tears in her eyes as she gazed down at the girl. She looked up as Michael appeared beside her. He looked down at her, "How is she?"

Tenenbaum shook her head, "Not good. I believe the machine is altering her genetic code, causing flu-like symptoms."

Michael looked up, "This is all my fault. I never should have involved her in this."

Tenenbaum spoke, but did not look up, "Don't blame yourself. She knew the risks, as did I."

Michael ran his hand through his hair, "Where is Biggs?"

Tenenbaum's voice grew tense, "You mean the monster? He's out in the lobby."

Michael left the room, appearing next to the spider-like monster now known as Biggs. He looked up at the helmet-like body, "I owe you an apology."

Biggs looked down at Michael, "Why am I owed an apology?" It was very articulate, with a voice that was not expected.

"Because…" Michael's voice trailed off, "I made you what you are."

"A monster?"

Michael paused, "Well, yes. A monster."

Biggs sighed, a rattling of metal and air, "I knew nothing before what your machine did to me. My first memory was in those streets. If I had to pick living as a monster and knowing it, or living out my days as a mindless man, I would pick the former."

Michael looked at the ground, "If I find a way, I can return you to the body of a man."

The monster looked down at Michael, "I do not wish to return. I feel complete as I am now."

Michael turned away, "I am going to ask for your help, Biggs."

"And you will have it."

"Just like that?"

"Yes."

Michael sighed, "Thank you."

***

The Secretary of Defense sat in the Oval Office with President John Brown. Brown was known for his arrogance; his intelligence got him elected. He was in his late sixties, a short, pudgy man with thinning gray hair. He was in a heated argument with Jackson over Michael's arrival and heavy claims.

"You're telling me that this guy shows up out of nowhere, says he and some other guy are from Rapture, and he's here to warn us that this other guy is going to try to take over the country?" Brown's voice was demeaning. His choice of Jackson was a favor. He did not know the Secretary of Defense well, but he was an up-and-coming and looked good on the news.

"More or less, yes. That's what I am telling you." Jackson was defensive.

"And then he just disappears?"

"Yes."

"Are you out of your Goddamn mind?"

Jackson knew how the story would sound, but he felt the need to believe it, to defend the man's claim. "I did some research. A Dr. Michael Steinman and his brother disappeared years ago off the public record. Back in the late fifties, actually." He threw a stack of papers onto the desk. "A Dr. Clerkwell sent a private investigator to look for his friend, Dr. John Steinman. Shortly thereafter, Clerkwell disappeared."

Brown flipped through the pages of the file, stopping to read certain paragraphs here and there. Jackson continued, "And back in 1960, a Navy vessel discovered a floating pod with a grown man, only know as 'Jack,' and about seven young girls. They did not release much information as to their prior whereabouts, just saying that it was a 'bad place.'"

President Brown closed the file, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his temples, "Fine. That does it." He reached into this desk and pulled out a thick case file. He slammed it in front of Jackson. "That's what we have on Rapture, Mr. Secretary."His voice was mocking. "We know where it is, and much about it. It's been deemed as a no-fly zone, money being placed in the right hands. I've had enough of this garbage."

Jackson began turning the pages, peering into each topic, "What are you saying, John?"

The President stood from his desk and pulled on his jacket, "I'm saying that tomorrow I want you to storm the place. Kill any who get in your way. Those were majorly American citizens and it was American money that built it. Tomorrow, America is taking what is hers. We harvest the science, take what we can, then blow the place to hell."


	7. Chapter 7

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter 7 – Can of Worms

Johann Decker was not a patient man. Tall and lanky, he had short, spiked blonde hair, he often acted before thinking. Prone to small irrational outbursts, he never remembered being so before the machine. Johann was the first that Clerkwell had approached about the machine. Both of Decker's parents were scientists in Rapture, and were recorded with ADAM use. Given to unstable genetics, Clerkwell had hoped that the machine would cause Decker's body to manifest into a power. He had been correct. Gifted with remarkable agility, his speed was accentuated with the electricity his body controlled. He had not quite bought into the "Those with power must rule" mentality, but now it somehow seemed infallible. Perhaps it had something to do with Richard, the man with the bigger brain. He was the second to be inducted, and he gave Johann the chills.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the car, waiting outside of another candidate's house. He adjusted the mirror, then looked back to the house, tapping his foot on the floor.

Finally, Clerkwell emerged from the house, an older man behind him. He followed Clerkwell closely as they approached the car. The door opened as both men slid into the back seat. Clerkwell tapped the glass between the front and back seat of the car. As Johann rolled the glass down, Clerkwell whispered, "To the warehouse."

***

Michael sat next to Isabelle, his eyes drooping with lack of sleep. He slumped in his chair, drifting off to sleep. When he awoke, Tenenbaum was sitting on the other side of the bed, gazing at Isabelle. She noticed Michaela and smiled.

Michael rubbed his eyes, sitting upright. He stretched out his arms, "She seems to be doing better."

Tenenbaum nodded, "Yes, she is stable. She should be waking soon."

Michael stood, "I just needed to sit for a while."

"I take it you stayed the night?" Tenenbaum smirked up at him.

Michael pulled on his jacket, "Yeah. I couldn't sleep." He grabbed his cap off the shelf, then turned to the door, "I need to speak with Biggs, then I'm going back to speak with Jackson."

"Alright then." Tenenbaum turned back to Isabelle.

Michael opened the door when a small quake shook the apartment. A resounding echo sounded through the corridors of an explosion somewhere deep in Rapture. He turned to Tenenbaum, nodded, then disappeared.

Biggs stood in the lobby, poised for attack at an unforeseen intruder. Michael appeared beside him, frost clinging to his jacket. Without moving, Bigg's metallic voice sounded, "I think it's near the entrance." Michael nodded as both entities disappeared.

***

Clerkwell stood in the warehouse as the older man slumped out of the machine, clutching his chest. Much to Clerkwell's disappointment, the man dropped to the ground, his eyes glassy as his heart stopped beating. Clerkwell waved to the man with the enlarged cranium, "Get rid of him, Richard." He turned to Johann who stood at the generator, sparks jumping from his hands.

"That's the third time this week," Johann sounded concerned at the number of candidates that could not handle the machine's energy. Richard stood over the body of the man, then began telekinetically dispersing his molecules apart, causing the body to disappate into the air. Richard scratched his chin, then waved the rest of the body away into dust. He glanced at Johann. Johann could feel him prying at the edges of his mind.

Clerkwell shook his head, "We need to build our numbers quicker than this." He looked up at the ceiling, "Which means our scanning process needs to be tuned up." He stared at Richard who was using the splicer to teleport the dead man somewhere far away. "Perhaps we should place Richard in the machine again; it could enhance his ability to read the genetic potential."

Johann sighed, "We could. Or we could find people that already have experience with having their genes toyed with."

Clerkwell looked at Johann, "There aren't enough Rapture survivors up here."

Johann grinned, "Not up here there isn't. But down there…"

Clerkwell frowned, "I don't know. There may not be many down there left, and most of them are out of their minds." He gazed at the machine, "I'll journey there with Miser," He gestured to the splicer, "I want you to stay here with Richard and the others. If I can't get any out of Rapture, we need a way to better find those that can join us."

Johann nodded, but secretly growled. More time with Richard. Great.

***

Eric Jackson walked down the halls of Rapture, exiting the bathosphere that had transported him and a select few military officers down. His mind was overcome with awe at the magnitude of Rapture's size and grandeur. He stepped onto the marble tile, inspecting the shadows about the hallway.

Suddenly, Michael appeared before him, a giant monstrosity next to him. The dozen soldiers around Jackson froze, training their weapons on either Michael or the giant. Jackson shouted, "Stop! Lower your weapons!" he looked straight at Michael, then at his men, "Now!" They slowly lowered their guns, their eyes never leaving the pair.

Michael's composure was calm, "What are you doing here, Jackson?" He held out an arm at Biggs who was beginning to move forward.

"I-I'm sorry, Steinman. President's orders." He shrugged pitifully.

"That doesn't answer my question, Jackson."

Jackson dropped his gaze, "The President has ordered us to covertly harvest the science left here and… And destroy Rapture." Jackson reconnected his stare with Michael, "This isn't my choice, Steinman."

Michael looked at the men, "This is my home. This is _our _home." He didn't just mean the monster and him, and Jackson knew it. He meant the abundance of people left, the citizens left. He would fix Rapture one day, once her demons were recaptured.

Jackson stood straighter, "I'm sorry, I really am. Unfortunately, an order is an order. I have a job to do, Steinman."

Michael's composure began to falter, "I can transport objects anywhere I wish at will. You really think that a handful of soldiers is going to take this city?" His fists were clenched, ice growing around them.

Jackson's voice broke, "I don't want to use force, but I will if it is necessary."

Michael looked at each man individually as he spoke, "So this is what happens? I come to warn you of something terrible and you attack my city?" Michael sighed, "Fine, then. We will bring the fight to the man you say is responsible."

Before Jackson could protest, Michael raised his hands. Jackson was suddenly overcome with a feeling of extreme cold, as if he was plunged into a freezing pool. He thought he could see his breath, feel a shiver. He looked up to see he was in the oval office, the feeling of cold leaving him as quickly as it had come.

President Brown leapt up from his desk, "What the hell is going on? What the hell is that?!" He pointed up at Biggs. He stared at Jackson, "What are you doing here?"

Michael stepped in front of the Secretary of Defense, past the soldiers, "This," he motioned to Biggs, "Is my friend Biggs." Biggs gave an awkward bow. "And we are citizens of Rapture, the city you just ordered to be demolished." He sat at the desk across from the president, "Have a seat, Mr. President."

***

Isabelle's eyes fluttered open slightly as she reached up to rube her eyes. She gazed up at Tenenbaum then smiled, "Mama Tenenbaum?"

Tenenbaum smiled, "Yes, dear. It's me." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she brushed Isabelle's hair out of her face.

"Where's Papa?" She sat up slowly, looking about the room.

"He's with your protector; he's dealing with some things." Tenenbaum sat back in her chair, "Are you feeling alright?"

Isabelle nodded, "I'm feeling fine, actually. I feel a little funny, I guess, but nothing major."

Tenenbaum nodded, "That's good. You may feel a little different; we don't know what the machine did to you."

Isabelle's eyes began rolling back on her head as she swayed. Tenenbaum rushed to her, holding her up, "Isabelle?" Isabelle trembled slightly before bolting upright, her eyes flashing open. Sweat beaded her brow as her lips trembled.

"Someone is here." Isabelle whispered. Tenenbaum looked at her quizzically. Isabelle stared straight ahead, her eyes losing focus, "He's here, the man. Clerkwell." Tenenbaum turned, gazing across the room to her monitors. She laid Isabelle gently back into her bed. She hurried across the hall, scanning the monitors.

Finally, she found him. Clerkwell was stalking around Arcadia, his splicer pet stalking behind him as they searched through the gardens. Tenenbaum frowned, leaning forward, analyzing the situation. Clerkwell stalked through the tall grass, his eyes wandering across the vegetation as his form shuddered occasionally, insects buzzing about him. Suddenly, another splicer jumped out from behind a tree. A shot rang out, but Clerkwell had dispersed to a cloud of insects, his pet was gone in a burst of flames. The splicer looked around wildly, waving his pistol in various directions. Without warning, the upper body of Clerkwell appeared in front of the splicer, grabbing him and throwing him through the flaming portal. As the portal closed, the splicer pet appeared once more as the two continued their journey.

Tenenbaum turned to Isabelle across the hall. She was lying down, but her eyes were open. Tenenbaum hurried to her side, "Isabelle, how did you know he was here?" He grasped her hand as Isabelle turned to her.

"I can sense him. His mind." Tenenbaum frowned. "I think I can read minds." Isabelle's voice was quiet as she turned to Tenenbaum, studying her. Her eyes fluttered, "You're worried for me."

Tenenbaum nodded, "Yes I am, dear." She tightened her grip on Isabelle's hand, "Can you sense Michael?"

Isabelle closed her eyes. She fell silent for a few moments as her eyes rolled under her eyelids. Suddenly, her eyes sprang open, "I see him." She turned to Tenenbaum, "He's with other men. He's angry. So is the man he is talking to. It's the President." She gasped as if being plunged into cold water, then regulated her breathing. "He's alone now. Just him and the President. They're-"

"Right here, Isabelle." Michael spoke, kneeling by her side. "You're awake." He felt her forehead, "The fever is gone. How are you feeling?" He rubbed her arm gently.

Isabelle smiled weakly at him, "I'm a lot better now, Papa Michael." She blinked a few things, then looked at President Brown, "You're afraid."

Michael stared at Tenenbaum quizzically. Tenenbaum spoke quietly, "I think the machine may have affected her genetic code." She sighed, glancing sideways at Brown, then whispered, "I think she has telepathy."

Michael nodded, then looked back at Isabelle, "I'm very happy that you feel better, Isabelle. I just wanted President Brown to meet you." He motioned back to the President who was standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed.

Brown smiled down at Isabelle, "Hello, young lady." He nodded sharply at her. He turned to Michael, "Do you mind if we step outside? We should probably wrap this up before my security launches a massive search party." He smiled at Michael, then glanced at Tenenbaum, "Bridgette. Long time no see." Brown stepped out of the room, waiting for Michael.

Michael nodded at Isabelle, then at Tenenbaum, before walking out with Brown. They stepped out of the building into the walkways by the tram station. For a while, the two men stood in silence. Michael turned to Brown, "You see that in there? That little girl? Are you prepared to be responsible for her death?"

Brown cleared his throat, "Son, I've been responsible for my share of deaths. I was in the Navy." He gazed around at the wall of glass that separated the wall of water from them. "This looks like nothing to me but an abandoned science experiment. If it would make you feel better, I can offer you safe passage to the surface and reintegration to the life."

Michael shook his head, "This is where we belong, Mr. President. This is our home." He turned towards the massive apartment complex. "This was a demolished building, destroyed by decay, psychosis, and corruption." He raised his arms in a majestic stance, "We rebuilt it. Soon, I could rebuild this city." He turned to the President, "I didn't have to warn you. I could have stayed here, hoping he wouldn't come back, and leave you to fend for yourselves."

Brown scoffed, "So why did you?"

Michael sighed, his body deflated, "Because I thought it was the right thing to do. A redemption for the horrors that this city is responsible for."

Brown shook his head, "So what do we do, Steinman? With this force that we are not prepared to battle? Assuming, of course, you're not just making this up."

"He's not." Tenenbaum jogged out of the apartment complex, clutching at her jacket. She looked at Michael, "I'm sorry, I wanted to wait until Isabelle went to sleep." Her breathing was ragged as she nodded at Brown, "Clerkwell is here. In Arcadia."

Michael rubbed his eyes, "Damn. What is he doing here?" He turned away, towards the sealed door to the next corridor.

"It looks like he is kidnapping splicers." She pulled several photos from her monitors, handing them to Michael. Michael looked them over, then handed them to the President. "I can only assume he wants to use the machine of them."

"And if they don't want to join him?" The president spoke. Tenenbaum seemed surprised, but she assumed Michael had filled him in on the events as of late. Brown handed the photographs back to Tenenbaum.

Michael glanced at Tenenbaum, "We think that one of the men with him uses his telepathy to force them to siding with him if they refuse. It seems that way with the splicer that teleports him everywhere."

Brown sighed, "What do you need from me?"

Michael turned to President Brown, "I need resources. I need a lab, I need hands, I need help. The biggest thing you can do is not meet Clerkwell with force."

Brown frowned at Michael, "Are you saying that I just start handing land over to him? Are you out of your mind?"

Michael shook his head, "You'll only loose men if you face him. I need time to try and build another machine, to gain numbers." He looked back at Tenenbaum as he spoke. "If Isabelle does in fact have telepathy, she may be able to find a way to free Clerkwell's men." He turned to the door, "Or these men. She could cure their insanity." He turned to Brown, "I'm going to send you to the surface, I will join you soon."

Brown held out his hand, "Wait." He turned to Tenenbaum, "I want to send a team here. I think your lab should be here, with the girl, and with Bridgette." He glanced back to Michael, "If you're down here, it will be out of public eye and can be kept a secret until we are ready to fight."

Michael nodded, "That's a good idea." He turned to Tenenbaum, "Are you comfortable with that?"

Tenenbaum spoke quietly, "Yes. I am."

Michael looked back to Brown, "Alright. I am going to stay here for a little while. I want to get Clerkwell out of here."

Brown smiled, "Does that mean you're getting that damn monster outta my office now?"

[End of Chapter]


	8. Chapter 8

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter 8 – Pooling the Resources

The splicer hung on the wall with amazing strength and dexterity. Her hair covered her eyes as she stalked around the halls, occasionally dropping to the floor, scanning the area for any movement. Suddenly, she turned sharply behind her, searching for something. _Can you hear me?_ A quiet voice sounded in her head. She peered through the darkness, "Intruder?" She whispered, her voice harsh and sharp. The splicer leapt into the air, clinging to the ceiling with tiny glass needles bound to her fingers.

She gazed down at the floor, searching for the source of the voice. _Hello?_ The voice entered her head again, small and innocent. The splicer frowned, then withdrew an extra glass needle from her shirt. She held it, poised for another sound.

Suddenly, a door creaked open behind her. The splicer turned, throwing the needle at exactly the height that the figures head had been. The figure threw up a bright wall of flame, vaporizing the deadly projectile. The figure stepped through the smoke. It was a man, short and staunch, wearing a strange rabbit mask.

The splicer jumped down, crouching onto the floor, "Sorry, brother!" The splicer cackled, her posture bent. Glanced down the hallway as her voice cut through the air, "I thought I heard someone in here."

The man leaned against the wall, inspecting his hands, "I heard it too, sis." He muttered, smoke trailing from his fingertips. He snapped his eyes up, "Well, let's find it!" He threw his hands up, flame surrounding them, "Maybe it's got something useful for us to steal!"

"Sounds fun!" The splicer giggled madly as she jumped back onto the ceiling, "Finally! A little action!"

***

Michael stalked through Arcadia, his hands out in a defensive poise, frost curling about his fingers. "Clerkwell!" He called out, searching amongst the vegetation. He rounded a corner, his eyes wandering. Suddenly, he felt a burst of hot air behind him. He turned, shooting a flow of ice from his hands, slamming into Clerkwell's pet. The splicer flew across the room before coming to a halt in a block of ice.

Michael kept his hand pointed at the splicer, aware of the light cloud of bugs migrating around him. "Clerkwell." He whispered. "This is not your city, Clerkwell!" The insects begin collecting in a denser cloud in front of him. "This isn't your science lab." A face began materializing, smirking at Michael. "You will leave the citizens of Rapture where they are."

Clerkwell had fully materialized, the occasional insect running along his arm. "I once lived here, you know." He glanced at his pet, "But, as you wish. Give me my pet, and I'll leave your city."

Michael raised his fingers, the ice dissipating from the splicer's form. "What are you doing with them, Clerkwell?" He noticed a slight fluttering behind him.

Clerkwell grinned, "That wasn't part of the deal, Steinman. Come, Miser. Let's go." Clerkwell glanced to where Miser had been. His eyes registered a slight look of fear. "Miser?" The splicer, Miser, was gone. Michael turned to the smoldering area where Miser had been. "Miser!" Clerkwell glanced around the room, then at Michael, "What did you do."

Michael shook his head, "This isn't me." His voice showed enough fear of his own to show truth. "I have nothing to do with your little pet going away." He kept a hand in Clerkwell's direction, sensing a trap.

Clerkwell swore, then stared at Michael, "Well then, looks like I've got to find a way out." Instantly, he burst into a cloud of insects, charging for Michael. The insects surround him, biting his skin, through his clothes, tearing at his skin. Michael swung his arms wildly, attempting to freeze or teleport any of them away.

The buzzing grew louder, the body heat of the insects rising, beginning to burn Michael. Michael's eyes began to burn, jets of frost shooting through the mass of insects. Michael began screaming out loud, then threw his hands out, a surge of energy flowing from his body.

The buzzing stopped. Michael opened his eyes, dropping his arms to his side. He glanced at the room, and saw the damage he had caused. A crater surrounded him, a mass of earth and vegetation missing from the room. He became faintly aware of the air rushing through the vents into the slight vacuum he had created. He sighed, hanging his head. He had lost control.

***

Isabelle sat on her bed, her legs crossed, and her hands in her lap. Her eyes were closed, moving behind the lids. She muttered quiet words as her lips moved quickly.

Tenenbaum sat at her desk in the monitor room, studying the movement of every person in Rapture. She smiled as Michael teleported Clerkwell back to the surface, then frowned when she realized she could not find where Miser had gone. She double checked the monitors, then saw him. He was stalking around the entrance to Rapture, looking at the signs that decorated the wall.

Michael appeared behind her, his breath rapid. "Clerkwell is gone. As is Miser." Tenenbaum swiveled in her chair to face him.

"I saw." She smiled up at him. "Good job." She turned back to her monitors, then picked up the device next to her setup. "Brown gave this to me. He said it was an easy way to communicate with us." She tossed it to Michael, "It's a cellular phone. I just received a message telling us that Jackson wants you to come fetch the equipment to set up the lab in about an hour. He also has someone he wants to work with you."

Michael gazed down at the contraption, "A cellular phone…?" He whispered, opening it. "What the hell?" He began fiddling with the buttons as he turned to face Isabelle's room. "What is she doing?"

Tenenbaum smiled, "She's reaching out to the citizens of Rapture. She is getting to know them." Tenenbaum shook her head, "She thinks she can heal them. Their insanity."

Michael nodded, "Well that's…" He searched for the right words. _Hopeless_ came to mind, but he thought it too bleak. Instead he settled on, "noble. Very noble of her." He walked into Isabelle's room, sitting at her bedside. She opened her eyes, seeing Michael, and leaned over to hug him.

"Oh, Papa Michael!" She exclaimed, sitting back on her bed. "Isn't it wonderful? I'm talking with everyone!" She grinned, her smile wide.

Michael's face grew warm and loving, as it always did around her, "I'm very proud of you, sweetie, teaching yourself like this." He leaned back in his chair, "Are they fun to talk to?"

Isabelle frowned, "Well, not really. Some are, but they all seem… strange."

Michael sighed, "Well, Isabelle, that's because all of them are…" Once again, words eluded him. He decided to be straight with her, realizing she could read his mind anyway. "They're insane, Isabelle. They don't think right."

"Mama Tenenbaum said something like that." She frowned, "I think I can help them." She smiled again, "I have favorites, did you know?"

"Do you now?" It was interesting realizing how much Isabelle had matured in just these few months since meeting her. She was growing in both mind and body, faster than he had realized.

"Yes I do. They didn't like me at first, but they're so funny!" Her face grew sheepish, "They're brother and sister. His name is Russell, and her name is Hailey." She closed her eyes, "They're up in Neptune's Bounty, looking for food. I used the combination I found in another man's head to help them open a freezer. I hope there's some left for them."

Michael's smile grew, "That is very sweet of you, Isabelle." He stood, straightening his hat, using his hand to push out the top again. "Isabelle, I have to go to the surface again, to meet Jackson and retrieve Biggs. Would you like to come?"

Isabelle grinned as she jumped off her bed, "Oh boy! Would I ever!" She ran and grabbed her sweater from her dresser, "I love going on errands with you, Papa!" She said, gripping Michael's hand tightly. Michael beamed down at her, then disappeared, taking Isabelle with him.

***

Clerkwell threw his jacket at the chair, his mood worsening at finding Richard and Johann with no candidates after he had worked hard to retrieve the ten that were strung up on the wall, unconscious from Richard's tampering with their minds.

"Goddamn it!" Clerkwell swore, pacing back and forth in front of the machine. His form vibrated in his frustration, the insects making up his body crawled over each other in anxiety. "Miser's gone, without a trace. Steinman throws me back here, and I only have ten fucking splicers to show for all of it!" He slammed his hand on the table, the wood splintering. He noticed a sliver in his fist, lodged between two insects. He concentrated slightly, then watched as the wood broke apart into an insect shape, then assimilated itself into his form.

He glanced at Johann, who offered no explanation, then to Richard who only shrugged his shoulders. Clerkwell rubbed his head, then turned to the machine, "Alright, let's start this." He rolled up his sleeves, pointing to the splicers, "Richard, keep an eye on them. I want them undergoing treatment during the transformation. If any of them even thinks a stray thought, wipe it and give them another dose." He stood over the panel, his hair frayed. "Johann, start her up."

***

Michael threw up a massive portal in the middle of the storage room. Lines of men, scientists and soldiers, flied back and forth from the storage room to Michael's new lab in Rapture. Each carried a mass of equipment, from pure scrap metal, to volatile substances and electric generators.

Jackson approached Michael as he saw Brown out the door, "Good to see you again, Steinman." He offered his hand as the two men shook firmly.

"Please, it's Michael." He smiled politely at the Secretary of Defense."I really appreciate this." He gestured to the mass of equipment being funneled into his study.

"Oh, not at all!" Jackson walked to the portal, its borders steaming with frost. "In addition to a small team of the elite doctors, I have someone who I think you may enjoy working with." Jackson turned towards the door, "Jenkins? Come in."

The door opened, revealing a short, pudgy man in a lab coat. As he got nearer, Michael noticed the very friendly face, with deep laugh lines, crow's feet, and twinkling blue eyes. The man had a shaved head, but the stubble was gray and receding. Under the lab coat he wore suspenders, a shirt and tie, with nice black slacks and dress shoes. He extended a soft hand, shaking Michael's fiercely. "Dr. Kenneth Jenkins, sir. Genetic Engineer."

Jackson nodded, "One of the best, I hear."

Jenkins chuckled, "I didn't think you could still hear, Eric."

Jackson laughed with him, "He's quite the kidder, but a hard worker. And very passionate about his work."

Jenkins gave a short bow, "I try. I do enjoy what I do, and I do what I enjoy." He walked to the portal, "My, my. Is this what I heard about?" He extended his hands near the border, frost forming about the hair on his knuckles. "Quite extraordinary you are, Dr. Steinman." He took a step into the portal, looking around. "Quite extraordinary indeed." He walked back up to Jackson and patted him on the back. "It's about damn time I get to cash in my vacation days." He walked back to the door. He lifted up a massive suitcase and returned to the portal.

Michael watched as another five men stood behind Jenkins, all with similar luggage. "My team, I presume?" He nodded at the men as they filed into the portal. Before it closed, Michael gave a sharp nod to Jackson, then was gone.

Jackson smiled, feeling very good about the future of the situation. That was until the ground above them rocked with the force of a massive explosion.

***

The splicer hung on the walls above the man, feeling full for the first time in years. She hummed a gentle, albeit creepy tune as she clawed at the surface. _Just a little farther. _The voice inside her head sang. She was used to voices in her head, but not ones that necessarily helped her.

She fell to the ground, bouncing neatly on her feet, as she gazed up at the massive bronze door. She tapped it lightly with her knuckle, holding out a hand to her brother, who had already built up heat to melt the thing down.

The door slowly creaked open, a massive turning of gears sounding below them. As the slowly stepped through the doorway, they looked down at a small girl. The girl smiled up at them, extending her hand, "Hello, I'm Isabelle. I'm the voice in your head."

***

Clerkwell stood beside the woman, "Very good, Genevieve. I am very proud of you." She patted the woman's shoulder, then turned her towards the car. As the closed the door, the car sped off, Johann cutting through the massive amounts of emergency vehicles with ease as the smoke rose from the White House.


	9. Chapter 9

Rapture's Ascent

The Abyss Gazes

Jackson gazed around the room, his ears ringing, blocking out all sound. He tasted blood; the room was clouded in dust and smoke, his eyes burning. He reached around him, feeling for anyone. He saw other men, secret service operatives, running into the room, grabbing body after body, feeling for a pulse, grabbing those alive. Jackson raised his hand feebly as two EMTs rushed to his side.

He groaned as they lifted him onto a stretcher, rushing him out of the room, down hallway after hallway as lights flashed in his eyes. He looked at one EMT, and reached up towards him, whispering, "What happened?"

The EMT was a young man, his face was flush with fear, and "We don't exactly know, sir. Please, try not to speak."

"Where's the President?" Jackson gasped, his throat tightening, "Is he alright?"

The EMT simply shook his head, "We don't know, sir."

***

Michael pulled out his mass of papers, pinning them to the wall in the large banquet hall, long ago deserted. He pulled out pin after pin, creating a portrait of his machine, filled with scribbles and equations, sketches and numbers. After every picture was hung up, he stepped back and faced the small group of seated scientists, with Jenkins at their lead.

"Gentlemen," Michael began nervously. He cleared his throat before continuing. "What you see here is my recreation of the machine I built months ago in this very city." He motioned to the mural behind him. "This machine helped make me what I am today. It is also what gave Clerkwell the abilities he has, along with every other super-powered being we are encountering."

Jenkins was the first to speak, his notepad at the ready, "What exactly does it do?"

"It manifests the genetic potential of the patient. It manipulates the genetic code of the patient, reading the dormant genes, and accelerating the power manifestation of the genes that it deems most stable. It also brings the patient to a sort of stability, a form of homeostasis."

Jenkins scribbled hurriedly, as did many other scientists in the room. He looked up and readjusted his reading glasses, "So are we recreating this device?"

Michael nodded, "That and more. Once we create the machine, I hope to use it on the citizens left in Rapture to cure their insanity. In return, we must hope that they aide our cause." He sighed, then rubbed his temples, "We also must look at the idea of reversing the affects. Creating a device that causes these genes to become dormant."

"And weaponize it?" Said Jenkins, his gaze piercing.

Michael paused a moment before continuing, "Yes. We need to stop Clerkwell or any other superhuman threats. If this means we need to weaponize a device like this, then that's what we must do."

Jenkins replaced his glasses into his face, "Alright then, where do we start?"

***

Isabelle sat with the two splicers, her eyes closed as she pried into their minds. Her mind entered theirs, thoughts swirling about her as she pushed and prodded at the limits of their sanity. The splicers sat with her, frozen from her mind meddling. Suddenly, Isabelle opened her eyes as the splicers did the same.

The female gasped, gazing at her arms in disbelief, as if seeing herself for the first time in quite a while. The male looked around the room, smoke trailing from his form. Isabelle beamed at the two, standing up quickly, "How do you feel Hailey?" She asked the female, then turned to the male, "Russell?"

Hailey stood, regaining her footing. Wincing, she reached into her pocket, withdrawing a mass number of small glass needles. She turned them over, studying them, "I feel… much better."

Russell rubbed his arms, "Yeah… I can't even explain it." He looked up at Isabelle, "How did you do all that? Lead us here and fix us, I mean."

Isabelle shrugged, "My Papa made something, and it helped me. It gave me something he called telepathy."

Hailey frowned, "Like a serum? A plasmid?"

Isabelle shook her head, "No. Like a machine." She led them down the corridor, "Follow me, I can take you to meet him."

Hailey and Russell looked at each other and shrugged, following Isabelle to Michael's work station.

***

Clerkwell paced around his office, staring at his hands. "If we are going to do this, I need more practice." He stopped, looking at Johann, then Richard. "Are you two absolutely certain you can handle me leaving for some time?"

Richard nodded, "Yes, sir. I have complete control over the troops, and we have the resources to get more."

Clerkwell glared at Johann, "Alright then, that means you get to keep scoping out the area. I want you to track down every former Rapture employee, descendant, anything. We need more people, and we need them fast!" He grunted, clenching his fist.

A ripple tore through his form, then stabilized. Johann shook his head, now gazing at himself. As he blinked, the illusion left him, Clerkwell was back where he had been. Perhaps it was lack of sleep. Or maybe Richard's mind bending was doing him in.

Clerkwell looked out the window before dissipating into the cloud of insects, leaking out the window.

***

Jackson looked up into the eyes of the White House physician. A light shone in his eyes, then clicked off as the man sat next to Jackson's bed. Jackson gripped the railing, looking about the room. He gasped, lying back into his bed. The physician, grabbed Jackson's hand, holding him still. Next to Jackson lied President Brown. Dead.

Jackson took a few moments to catch his breath, "How long?"

The doctor shook his head, "A few minutes."

Jackson closed his eyes, a ragged breath escaping his lungs, "Damn." After a moment, he opened his eyes, "Where's Ellist?"

"The former Vice President is on Air Force One, currently headed to an undisclosed location." The doctor sighed, rubbing his eyes, "We still don't know what happened. From what it seems, everything simply blew apart. No explosives, nothing."

Jackson gazed up at the ceiling as he whispered, "Clerkwell."

Suddenly, the door burst open as a black swam of insects flew through the doorway. Jackson rolled over the side of the bed, hiding before the mass could see him, but the doctor rushed to attempt to shoo it out. As the physician reached the swarm, he flung his head back. Many of the insects entered the man's nostrils as he twitched uncontrollably. He gasped for breath, but only more insects met his lungs. Finally, his spasms subsided as he slumped to the ground, the swarm exiting his airway as it circled around the dead President.

Clerkwell materialized over the body as he grinned. He placed a buzzing hand over the still warm body, his eyes closing as he studied the anatomy of Brown's body. Finally, he stepped back from the body, reaching for something in his pocket. He grabbed a lighter and reached for a bottle of sanitizing alcohol behind him. He poured it on the cadaver before igniting it. To Jackson's horror, Clerkwell stood guard as the former President's body went up in flames, all evidence of his existence being burnt to ash.

As the flames died, Clerkwell turned towards the door. The smell of burned flesh threatened to overcome Jackson, but he watched as Clerkwell cracked his neck, his form shuddering as he began to change shape, the insects materializing and crawling over one another. Without turning back, the new Clerkwell left the room, dressed neatly in the President's suit.

***

Michael stared from Hailey to Russell, then back again. He raised his eyebrows, "Isabelle… you saved these people?" The two splicers stood next to Isabelle, unsure of what to say.

Isabelle beamed proudly up at Michael, "I helped them! I found them wandering in Rapture, so I brought them here and fixed their minds." She looked back at the siblings, "I could even help more people!"

Michael offered his hand, "Well, I'm Michael."

Hailey shook his hand, "Hailey. I don't remember much else."

Russell greeted Michael, "Russell. And neither do I." Russell chuckled lightly as he gazed around the large room filled with people, "What is this place?"

Michael turned to face the hustle and bustle of the creation of his machine. "We're working on a machine of sorts. It essentially makes people with powers more powerful, and sometimes gives those without powers an ability." They followed him towards the base of his creation, the crackling of energy filled the room as pieces were welded onto the base. "I created this months ago, as a means to allow myself to escape Rapture. However, I decided Rapture may be the perfect place for a person like me." He laughed grimly as he gazed around, "While I was on the surface, my first machine was stolen by a man named Clerkwell."

Hailey cut in, "Richard Clerkwell? The Doctor?"

Michael nodded, "That's the one. How do you know him?"

"We were interns for him," Russell said, "Working right out of college."

Michael, "Well I'm afraid he's changed somewhat. After using my machine on himself, he's become very powerful, and has acquired a following. He's after power, and he has the means to get it."

Hailey rubbed her temples, "What are we talking about? Another Fontaine?"

Michael shook his head, "No. Fontaine never attempted to conquer a country, much less the planet.

His words hung in the air, the two siblings staring blankly at him at this sudden thrust into a new world. It seemed that Rapture would always find a way to cause danger for others. "So what are we supposed to do?"

Michael shrugged, "Stop him. Any way we can."

***

Jackson stumbled down the hall as he buttoned his coat. He gazed around, studying the fractures in the wall, the splinters from the beams, and the bloodstains on the tile floor. As he rounded a corner, President Brown and a small entourage of secret service operatives hurried towards him. Jackson fell against the wall in shock. He had seen Brown dead on the stretcher. This had to be Clerkwell.

"Erik!" The impostor exclaimed, "You don't look very well." He rushed to Jackson's side and helped him up.

Jackson studied Brown's face, looking for a flaw. He found none. "I don't feel well, Mr. President." It took him a great deal of effort to sound convincing. "I'm glad to see you're alright."

Brown nodded, "Feeling just fine." He motioned for the men behind him to assist Jackson, "We need to congregate and assess this event. Count our losses and find out what the hell just happened."

Jackson nodded, but inside he hoped for Michael to pay him a visit soon.

***

Johann turned to face the dozen or so recruits they had collected. They had all been through the treatment, a combination of the machine and a dose of mind meddling from Richard. Combined with the few that Clerkwell collected before his departure, the force they had acquired was considerable.

Johann led them outside to the few cars that were parked in front of Clerkwell's massive house. They piled into the cars quietly as Johann took the wheel of the lead vehicle. He turned to Richard, "Where do we go first again?"

Richard sighed, "Well since Miser departed, our range is limited for now. First we go to New York."

Johann nodded, "Right. New York." The cars departed in a caravan to their destination.

***

Michael turned to Isabelle and the siblings, "Are you sure you're prepared for this?"

Russell grinned, "I'm sure we'll be fine. I'm Pyrokinetic and Sis here has impeccable aim."

Hailey looked up from her hands. She was grinding two fragments of glass on each other, sharpening them into thin projectiles. "Yeah, he's right. We've survived this long in Rapture, I don't think we'll have trouble protecting her."

Isabelle nodded quickly, "We'll be fine, Papa. They'll help me to fix everyone!" She smiled up at Russell and Hailey.

Michael sighed, "Alright. But be sure to visit Tenenbaum, bring supplies, food, whatever you need. If anything happens, Isabelle," He tapped his temple, "You let me know and I'll be there immediately."

_Of course, Papa_, Isabelle's voice sounded in Michael's head. He smiled nervously as the trio turned to exit the room. He didn't turn away until the door had closed. He approached Jenkins, who was shouting orders at two scientists as he scribbled furiously.

"How goes it?" Michael peered over Jenkins' shoulder.

Jenkins looked up, his eyes showing slight fatigue as he spoke, "It goes slow. I don't know how the hell you built this thing while you were in the loony bin, but it's no easy task."

"I know," Michael said, "It's still a little fuzzy." He ran a hand along the base of the machine, looking at the intricate overlay of wires. He looked at a few that were unconnected and began wiring them to their respective sockets. "I've got to go visit Brown and Jackson, see what's the latest on the surface."

Jenkins nodded, "Alright. I'll stay to maintain the zoo down here."

"Thank you. I shouldn't be gone too long, just a touch bases thing."

Jenkins looked up, "Well you can't come back unless you leave."

Michael smiled, "Good point." He was gone.

***

Jackson sat in his office as he prepared for the meeting. His mind was a cloud of thoughts. He was the only one who knew the truth, and the only one with the ability to do anything. He rustled some papers as a burst of cold entered his office. He stared, relieved, up at Michael.

Michael gazed about the office, noticing the presence of fractures and noticing damage about the room, "What happened?"

Jackson placed his glasses on his desk, "Clerkwell." He stood, walking around the desk, "Michael…" His voice trailed off. "Michael, our security has been compromised."

Michael frowned, "What do you mean?"

Jackson sighed, "Clerkwell has taken the place of the President. He is now the most powerful person in the world."


	10. Chapter 10

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter 10 – New Territory

Michael felt his heart leap in his chest. Clerkwell was the President of the United States? His face registered the shock as he looked about the room, "Does he know that you're onto him?"

Jackson shook his head, "Not at all. I've played it cool, but I don't know how much longer I can. Michael…" Jackson shuddered, "He controls the most powerful nation in the world."

Michael shook his head, "I know… I…" His voice trailed off as he rubbed his head, "I don't know what to do."

Jackson turned back to his desk, "How close are you to finishing the machine?"

Michael sat in the chair across from Jackson, "Close. But we still need time. Isabelle is bringing others to our side."

"The little girl?" Jackson looked surprised.

Michael chuckled halfheartedly, "You underestimate her, sir." He braced his arms about his head, "Does anyone else know?"

Jackson shook his head, "No one knows for sure, but they all suspect that the President isn't quite… himself." He began stacking papers again, "I've considered telling Ellist, as he is the Vice President. He's supposed to take over it something happens to Brown."

Michael turned back to the closed door, then to the small closet in the office. He stood and walked to it, reaching his hand inside. A bright light shone from it as frost curled about the doorframe. Michael turned to Jackson, "I'm creating a permanent portal. It leads directly to my lab, so if you ever need to leave in a hurry, you can escape." He began to step into the portal, "Use the phone, keep me updated. And… tell Ellist."

***

Hailey and Russell stepped down the quiet halls of the Medical Pavilion, the quick shadows darting through the doors. Russell looked back at Hailey, his eyes darting as his hands ignited. Russell was quick tempered, and very fiery when angered. His protective nature over his sister was one of great magnitude, and although they remembered little before Rapture, the siblings were close. Russell was tall but strong, though his muscle mass had diminished over the years from lack of food. His hair was in short black spikes, his brown eyes always analyzing.

Hailey was strikingly beautiful, her blonde hair and blue eyes making her easy to underestimate. Her body was slim and curvy, her strength surprisingly well developed from her splicer acrobatics. While her brother's fiery temper had manifested into his pyrokinetic nature, Hailey's cold and calculating nature developed in a different fashion. She had minor Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, her hands constantly sharpening shards of glass into small needles in her down time. She often used them as projectiles. She never missed.

Hailey turned to face the doorway to Steinman's old office of plastic surgery. Isabelle slowly stepped through, "Just through here, I think." She whispered, her eyes squinted in focus. "Hello in there!"

Russell crept behind Isabelle, smoke trailing from his hands. "I don't like this, Izzy." The siblings had adopted the pet name. Isabelle liked it immediately, feeling she fit in with them.

Isabelle peered into the darkness, "He doesn't think like the others… He's harder to talk to. He doesn't want to be helped it seems."

Hailey laughed nervously, "Maybe we should listen to him."

Suddenly, a crashing sounded from in the office. A shadow leapt across the doorway as a man appeared, slowly creeping out of the darkness. He was very old and very thin, seemingly fragile as glass. His eyes sunk into his skull as he peered at the trio, "Little girl…" He stepped forward as Hailey motioned for Russell to lower his hands. "Little girl… and friends…" He peered at Russell, "Back off, boy." Russell raised his hands silently, stepping back. "Back off!" The man shouted, stepping forward.

Before Isabelle could stop him, the man grabbed a wrench from the desk, throwing it at Russell with enough force to knock him off his feet as it slammed into his chest, his breath escaping him. He hit the wall and fell unconscious as Hailey flicked up her middle finger and flung her hand towards the man. A glass needle soared swiftly and silently into the man's throat, piercing his jugular vein as he clutched his neck. He gurgled slightly as thick, red blood poured from between his fingers as he slumped to the ground, his eyes rolling back into his head.

Hailey held Isabelle as she gasped sharply, the man twitching as the last of his life escaped him. Apparently, Isabelle could not cure all insanities. At least not without more practice. They hurried to Russell's side as Hailey snapped her fingers. Isabelle touched his temple, "He's fine. Just needs to be woken up." Russell moaned, blinking open his eyes as he peered into the light.

A burst of flames interrupted the task at hand as a man stepped through a white portal surrounded by flames. A man stepped through as he stared at Isabelle, "Help me?"

Isabelle smiled, "Hello, Miser. Of course I can."

***

Johann sat back in the car after the last stop: leaving Richard outside of the White House. The different members of their fraternity were placed at their marks as Johann returned to Clerkwell's base of operations. He stepped out of the vehicle as he gazed out into the clouds. He sighed as he gazed at his hands, his fingers sparking slightly.

He turned west, then departed, his form disappearing in a flash of lightning as smoke rose from the melted pavement from where he stood a moment prior.

***

Jackson gazed out of his office, his mind elsewhere. He rubbed his temples as his door burst open, a secret service operative rushing in. "Sir! The meeting is starting."

Jackson nodded, "Of course. I'm coming." He sighed, turning to the door, walking quickly out into the hall, towards the meeting room. He rushed into the room, taking the seat across from Brown/Clerkwell. The room turned towards him as he cleared his throat, sorting through his notes. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he rustled through his papers, "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

A chorus of meaningless welcomes rang out as Clerkwell gazed at him from Brown's eyes, "About time, Jackson. What do you have for us?"

Jackson nervously shook as he read from his papers, "Well, Mr. President." His voice faltered for a moment before picking back up, "We don't really know. There is no explosive residue, no trace of an accelerant. Factually, sir, it appears that something just… burst apart." Suddenly, Jackson had a realization. Only him, Brown, and a select few scientists, all now in Rapture, knew of Michael's visit. Brown had decided that after the disastrous attempt to raid Rapture, that the fewer people who knew all of the facts the better.

Clerkwell sighed, "No leads? No detainees? Who did it, Jackson?" His gaze was piercing, he was playing his part perfectly.

Jackson breathed out a ragged breath, "We simply do not know, Mr. President."

Clerkwell slammed his fists down, "Damnit!" He sighed, looking around the room. "We are bombed and left blind? Does someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?" Several people flinched as he shouted.

An operative entered the room slowly as Clerkwell glared at him, "What?!"

"Sir… You all better see this." The operative crossed the room as he turned the Television on and stepped back. The screen flashed to the news as bulletin after bulletin soared across the screen. Words scattered across the screen as they barely registered in Jackson's mind.

"Bombing of the Pentagon." "The Chrysler Building has been hit!" "Some of the major Texas oil fields are in flames right as we speak." "Casualties are innumerable." "Thousands dead, hundreds injured." "This just in, Sacramento has just been hit."

Jackson's heart stopped as he gazed at the scene. Clerkwell began shouting in his act, his words drowned out by the shock, Jackson numbed at the sight. The men hurried out of the room as Jackson slumped in his chair, the only one to fully grasp the situation. Ellist was the last one out the door, his age causing him to hobble slowly across the room. Jackson turned to catch him alone, "William!"

The elderly man turned towards Jackson, a sad, wizened gaze showing, "What is it, Eric?"

Jackson sighed, "There's something you should know."

***

Michael slapped the cover over the control panel, "Alright, gentlemen. This is the defining moment." He pressed a few buttons on the panel, the generator humming to life. "The question is, how do we test it.

"On me." Jackson called from the edge of the room, an elderly William Ellist, Vice President, rightfully President of the United States of America. Ellist seemed dazed at the sight in front of him.

Michael hurried to Jackson's side, "What the hell are you both doing here?" He asked, extending his hand to Ellist, "Dr. Michael Steinman, sir."

Ellist shook his hand, a strong grip for the senior citizen. "This is all your fault, right?"

Michael understood the Vice President's accusation. It had been his machine. It was ultimately his fault. "Well, sir, men who want power will find a way to get it, but I am responsible for assisting Clerkwell. But, if I may, sir… None of this seems unbelievable to you?"

Ellist shook his head, "Son, I've been in politics for fifty years. I've learned to smell the bullshit. I know when someone is telling the truth." He gazed up at the machine, that's the new one, is it?"

Jackson nodded, "Yes it is, and we're testing it now." He strode past Michael to the machine, taking his jacket off as he rolled up his sleeves.

Michael hurried to Jackson's side, "No!" Jackson turned to face him, a fire in his eyes. "I mean, with all due respect, sir, we don't know if it will work, and you and Ellist are too important to lose."

Jackson lost control, "No! This is it! Clerkwell has just killed upwards of ten thousand innocent civilians across the country! I will not sit by as he destroys my country!" He turned to Ellist and the others, "_Our _country. He will not use us for his petty domination. " He opened the glass tube, stepping inside. "I know the risks, Michael. I know what I am doing. Turn the damn thing on."

Michael sighed, looking at Ellist. Ellist nodded and walked to the machine. Michael approached the panel once more, the generator now at maximum power. He flicked a switch, the surge of energy slamming into Jackson's older form, causing him to wince as he slumped to his knees in the torrent of electricity.

***

Biggs clanked along the hallway, a slow patter of footsteps behind him as he led the forms of giants towards the Medical Pavilion. His metal tendrils carried him swiftly towards the door as the clunking behind him filled the room. He reached the door as it rose swiftly, allowing him and his followers to file into the main lobby.

Isabelle sat with Miser as Hailey and Russell turned in panic to see the mass of armored behemoths. As Russell fired his hands up, Isabelle awoke and shouted, "No! He's a friend!"

Biggs simply waited for Russell to cool down before offering a tentacle, "Biggs is the name."

Russell cautiously extended a still hot hand, "Uh… Russell." He looked at the line of giants behind him. "Um, Sis? Are those-"

"Big Daddies." Isabelle said proudly. "Biggs was gathering them for me. Now I can cure them of their mental conditioning and hope they will join our cause."

Hailey turned to Isabelle. "Wait, Izzy. You plan to free a bunch of Big Daddies and hope they fight on our side?"

Isabelle grinned, "Genius, isn't it?"

***

Clerkwell sat in the Oval Office, momentarily alone. Inside his jacket, a private cell phone rang, "Hello?" He answered, his voice rough. "Yes, I saw. Perfect. Have Decker bring you back to the base. Continue recruitment until further notice, I will contact you soon." He clicked the connection off as his door swung open.

"Sir!" Chief of Security Hector Rikt hurried into the office. "We need to get you out of here."

Clerkwell frowned, "What's going on?"

Rikt shook his head, "We don't know, sir. Secretary of Defense Eric Jackson and Vice President William Ellist are missing, sir."

Clerkwell's eyes flickered back and forth, "Hmm… Interesting." He looked up to Rikt, "Right then, let's go." He followed Rikt out the door, his mind suspecting that Jackson knew more than he had let on. And now he had taken Ellist down with him. This needed fixing.


	11. Chapter 11

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter 11 – Under New Management

Michael, Jenkins, and the other scientists stood around the smoking machine, watching as Jackson's limp form slumped out of the tube. Jackson opened his eyes slowly as he began to stumble to his feet. He caught his balance as Michael rushed to his side, grabbing his shoulders and holding him up. He limped to a nearby chair, seating himself as Michael stepped back, eyeing him.

"I was unaware it was going to be that painful." Jackson's frame bent over the table, his arms bracing him.

Jenkins chuckled, "Science can be a real pain sometimes." He crossed towards the machine and glanced over the readouts on the side of the control panel.

"How do you feel?" Michael asked, taking a seat next to Jackson.

Jackson picked himself off the desk and turned to Michael, "Like I got hit by a train." He rubbed his temples as he replied, "I feel all strange, like I'm coming down from an adrenaline rush."

Jenkins looked up from the panel, "That would be your body readjusting to your slightly modified genetic code. Any alteration in your genes brings about minor flu-like symptoms for a few moments." He looked back to the panel, "No shots for that, I'm afraid."

Jackson shook his head, "I think the worst of it is over. Funny-" He looked at his forearm, turning it over, "I don't remember being this fit… Ever." He flexed his hand and gripped it, repeating the process. He looked up from his arm to Michael, "What did it do?"

Michael looked back at Jenkins who only shrugged. He turned back to Jackson, "We have no way of knowing exactly what the machine does to a particular person. Therefore, we won't know the extent of the effects until your body begins exhibiting them."

Jackson frowned, "How the hell do I do that?"

Before Michael could respond, the door swung open to reveal Isabelle. Hailey and Russell stood next to her, and just out of sight was Biggs. Isabelle ran to Michael, hugging him tightly. "Papa!"

Michael hugged Isabelle and sat her on his lap. He looked back at Hailey and Russell, "How goes the journey?" He tussled her hair, nodding at Biggs.

Hailey let out a sigh and sat down in an empty chair, "Oh, it's been a blast. Between dodging the few bullets left in this place and throwing a needle in a guy's jugular, I've had the time of my life."

"You know, I'm supposed to be the sarcastic one." Russell said, sitting near her. "We've been alright for the most part. Got a few sane ones walking around, scoping out the area. We've got apparently over half of the Big Daddies in Rapture cured and wandering the halls, scoping for Little Sisters to herd back to be fixed also. All in all, this little girl has been busy." He motioned to Isabelle, smiling.

Michael looked down at Isabelle, "Yes she has. It looks like we're well on our way to repairing this city." He looked across at Biggs, "How did you communicate with the other Big Daddies?"

Biggs swayed slightly, "Easily. I spoke." A look of shock registered on most of the listeners' faces, the ones who had encountered a Big Daddy. Biggs looked around the room, pausing. Finally, his many-legged helmet gave what appeared to be a shrug, "No one ever tried. Never. They're really not too different from any of your. They merely cannot escape their higher mental programming."

Michael frowned, "I don't suppose anyone did." He shook his head, "I guess no one ever thought of it that way."

Isabelle looked at Biggs, "They're actually really nice. I just got rid of some of the problems in their head. Now they think just like us." She beamed proudly up at Michael as she leaned back into his chest.

Michael nodded slowly, his mind beginning to wander. The room was silent for a moment as Michael began to formulate an idea in his head. "Isabelle, I need you to check on someone for me."

Isabelle smiled, "Of course, Papa. Who is it?"

Michael looked down at her, "Do you remember Jack?"

***

Johann looked around him as he stood on the front lawn of the Sacramento Capital building. He observed the flow of foot traffic, people going about their business, heading to and from work, touring the area, shopping with friends. A soft pull at his heart registered as he quickly forgot about it, not knowing why. He shook his head as he raised his hands, the air crackling around them. _Time to make it coast to coast I guess. _

Bolts of electricity crackled around him, alerting those around him, causing screams as those near him hurried for cover. The lightning built up around him as he arched his back, the energy threatening to overload him. He threw his arms forwards, throwing a stream of energy at the building, the resulting explosion bursting as the heat and electricity generated by the blast caused the building to erupt.

Johann fell to his knees as debris flew around him, hitting the ground as the smell of smoke, and burning substances swirled about his head. He took in shallow breaths, the blast taxing his body as he prepared for the journey back.

As he stood to leave, a bullet whizzed by his ear, causing him to duck back and fall to the floor. He stared up at a police officer pointing a gun in his face, "Don't fuckin' move, man!" The man's hands shook as he looked down at Johann.

Johann threw his hand up, but not even a spark shot from his hand. "I said don't move!" The man shouted. Johann frowned, his heart beginning to race. Desperate, he looked to reason.

"What's the problem officer?" His voice was calm, warming.

"Don't even fucking try it!" His face was read, most likely from fear, but perhaps anger. "I saw you! I saw what you did!" His eyes darted around him, "You blew up the Capital!"

Johann smiled, "And how did I do that?" His voice was demeaning.

The officer began to sweat, "Lightning. You used lightning."

Johann chuckled lightly, "Right. Lightning." He began to feel a cloudiness in his mind, his vision began to blur slightly as he shook his head. "Why not call for back-up then, officer?"

The policeman sighed, "Radios are shorted out, as are most electronics in the area." He turned to his left, looking to a parking patrol car as two more officers exited the vehicle, dodging panicking civilians as sirens wailed nearby. "Hey!" the officer shouted, "Over here!"

Johann took the distraction and kicked his leg up, barely missing the gun in the man's hand. His movements felt slow and sluggish, as if he were drugged. The officer turned, instinctively pulling the trigger. The shot rang out as the bullet slammed into Johann's shoulder, knocking him back as he swore, blood pooling about the wound.

The officer kept his weapon on Johann. Johann slowly began to lose consciousness, a combination of the pain, his exhaustion, and the unknown cause of his lack of abilities. As he slipped to blackness, he thought he heard Richard's voice, "I'm sorry."

***

Clerkwell rode in Air Force One, his advisors a flurry of activity around him. He worked hard to conceal the grin that wanted desperately to cover his face. He gazed around at the men on phones, the constant movement. Suddenly, a voice cut through the din of voices.

"Sir!" It was Rikt, "We've got some news!" He rushed to Clerkwell's side, "Some officers in Sacramento." He shook his head, "They're at ground zero. They say they found the source."

Clerkwell raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, "And?"

Rikt looked up at Clerkwell, "They say a man shot lightning from his hands into the capital building."

***

Richard Foster circled Clerkwell's office. His brain was a mass of swirling thoughts, each pulled from the army Clerkwell and he controlled. He turned towards the door, walking to it and locking it. He turned back to the desk and sat, holding his slightly enlarged cranium.

Richard was of South African descent, his family killed in a car accident when he was around the age of ten. He was discovered to be a sensitive around the age of sixteen while living with an American foster family. He discovered his ability to detect human emotions when his foster mother had discovered her husband had an affair with her sister. He was taken by his foster father when the couple divorced, but his attachment to his family had lessened as he became introverted, discovering different aspects of his ability.

Years later, when he was contacted by Clerkwell, he had accepted the opportunity to expand his abilities, delighting in the power he would have. He used the machine on himself, augmenting his control on other's thoughts and the environment around him. He dedicated himself to Clerkwell, respecting his genius and charisma.

He held his head, rubbing his temples as he pried around the world. He decided to check on his mental wall around Jack, the man who probably posed the second greatest threat to Clerkwell's plan, with Michael leading the list. Jack's mind, powered by the freeing from Fontaine's mind control, was extremely resistant to mental tampering. Richard had found a way around this, though. If he could not win Jack to their side, neither would anyone else. He had constructed a wall of telepathic energy around Jack's mind, preventing any other telepath from even knowing Jack existed.

He analyzed the wall, feeling another mind prodding at it. He felt the force clearly, though it was small and focused. He caught the force and followed it to the source. It went through the ground, into the ocean, down and down into the water. The signal came from Rapture, down and down, to a little girl. Her name was-

A massive telepathic shock wave slammed into Richard's head, knocking him back. He rubbed his head as he sat up. He knew the girl had felt him; she had reacted, throwing up a massive attack to repel him. A smile flicked across his lips. _Finally. A challenge._

***

Tenenbaum opened the door to the laboratory, "So when do you want lunch, everyone?" She stepped in as all heads turned towards her.

Michael smiled, "Well I'm hungry, anyone else?"

Isabelle opened her eyes groggily, "Yes, Mama, very hungry." She swayed slightly from the attack, but made no mention, lest it worry Michael.

The others agreed that lunch sounded like a good idea. They slowly stood, but Isabelle froze, grabbing Michael's hand, "Papa." She whispered, "Someone is here."

Tenenbaum turned to the door as it opened. A scrawny, wrinkled old man stood in the light, curved blades hanging from his hands. He looked at Isabelle, then to the others. "Girl…" He hissed.

Michael looked to Hailey, "You didn't close the gates?" He whispered angrily.

Hailey could only offer a look of apology as she drew a few glass needles from her pocket, watching the man. The man stepped forward as Isabelle cowered. He pointed to Isabelle, "She is in my head." He frowned, "A Little Sister?"

Tenenbaum stepped in front of the man, "No. She is not." She held her hand up.

The man drew back, but pointed his blade at Tenenbaum, "I know you…" He eyed Tenenbaum. He rasped, "Move. Need ADAM. Must get to girl." He looked back to Isabelle. He drew his hand back, "Move or you get hurt."

Tenenbaum shook her head, standing her ground. The room suddenly became a blur as the man swung his blade. Tenenbaum stepped back, the blade slicing her abdomen as Michael cried out. Russell leapt forward, the man suddenly bursting into flames. He screamed as his form smoldered to ash, the grime-covered blades clattering to the floor.

Tenenbaum sunk to the floor as Michael ran to her. He lifted her shirt slightly as he sighed, "It's shallow." He looked up at Russell, "It doesn't look too bad." He peered at the blades lying on the ground. "I want to get some alcohol, though. I don't know what's been on those blades."

The group began to assist Tenenbaum to her feet as Russell lead the way, Hailey rushing to close the gates. Isabelle stopped, glancing at the blades, sensing something familiar glistening on the tips.

***

Johann awoke in a dark room, a small light showing at the other end. He tugged his arms, but he found them chained to the chair, a strong electric current running through them. He glared up as a man stepped into the room. He was tall and muscular, his frame not reflecting his old age, his short gray hair ultimately betraying his years.

"Ah, so you're awake." His voice was thick and deep as it echoed in the room. "Don't know what happened to you, why you passed out from just a little bullet clip." He pulled out a chair across the table from Johann. "Couldn't even throw anymore lighting. I assume you wore yourself out." He pulled out a folder, removing some photographs, slamming them onto the table. "From blowing up the Capital Building, that is."

Johann's eyes looked over the photographs. Some were poor quality showing him building up energy, even throwing it at the building. Others, the more high quality collection, showed the aftermath. He shuddered as pictures of bodies, alive and dead, stared up at him. He began to sweat, staring at the man.

He began to open his mouth, attempting to talk his way out, but felt his mouth forming words he had not even thought. "I'm glad you like my work, commoner."

"You can call me Rikt." The man said, frowning at Johann. "What do you mean 'commoner'?"

Johann felt his face change shape as he lost control of his motor functions, "I mean you're powerless. You have no ability of your own."

Rikt raised his eyebrows, "I'm not the one handcuffed."

Johann grinned against his will, "Oh, it's only a matter of time before I build back my strength. And then I will escape and rejoin my brothers."

Rikt sighed, "You want to start by telling me what the fuck is going on, Flash?" His voice was mocking.

Johann only stared as he fought desperately against whatever had taken control of him, "Those with power are destined to rule, old man." His mind screamed as his voice only chuckled, "And we will rule."


	12. Chapter 12

Rapture's Ascent

Chapter 12 – Mind Games

Clerkwell stood in the Oval Office, his desk cluttered with papers. He paced quickly, the buzzing still barely visible as his anxiety physically manifested. He fidgeted with his private cell phone in his pocket, waiting for it to quietly buzz. As his hand twitched, the call came in. He quickly flipped it open, holding it at his ear.

"Speak." His voice was quick and sharp.

"Decker is in position." Richard's voice sounded through the speaker.

"Is he fighting it?"

Richard paused. "Yes. He's fighting it hard." He sighed, rattling the phone, "I don't know how long I can keep a hold of him before he breaks through my control."

Clerkwell rubbed his eyes, frowning. "Well then, perhaps we need a demonstration." He gazed out the window, blinking quite a few times. "Send Martin." He took a deep breath, "The cover: Decker being captured is a threat to their plan. He needs to be disposed." He sat in his chair, leaning onto the desk. "We can't fight an enemy that doesn't exist. And as far as the public knows we don't have a defined enemy yet. And we need one." He paused, exhaling sharply. "So let's continue creating one."

Richard paused a moment, "So we are going to kill Decker?"

Clerkwell laughed quietly, "Of course not. Martin is."

The line went dead as Clerkwell pocketed the phone. His body shuddered as he retook the form of the President, just in time for the door to open, revealing Rikt. The Chief of Security crossed to the chairs opposite of Clerkwell, seating himself as he placed a folder on the desk.

"The files from Decker." He leaned back. "I took the liberty of interrogating him myself. FBI head isn't really stoked about it, but he can kiss my ass. I need to know who we are fighting in order for me to do my job." He crossed his leg as he stared down Clerkwell/Brown.

The President glanced over the interrogation notes, the DNA analysis, and the debrief of the Sacramento incident. He flipped through the pages before finally setting the file back onto the desk. He crossed his hands, looking at Rikt. "So what is your analysis?"

Rikt sighed, "It's new. It is definitely new. We've got what looks like to be homeland terrorists, bent on weeding out those with superhuman abilities from those that have them. They are looking for control, either gaining it in the government or otherwise. As for the superhuman abilities part, we have undeniable proof that Johann Decker shot electricity from his body, causing the Capitol building to erupt from immense amounts of pressure and heat."

There was a pause that hung in the air for quite some time as Clerkwell drummed his fingers slowly. He rubbed his temples as he spoke, "How afraid should we be, Hector?"

Hector leaned onto the table, staring directly at Clerkwell, "Frankly, sir? We should be terrified."

***

Tenenbaum sat in her chair, observing the many screens that covered the activity of Rapture. She hunched over the monitors as he winced, clutching the shallow cut in her abdomen. He looked up as Michael entered her office, quietly closing the door behind him.

"How's the cut?" Michael asked, stepping next to Tenenbaum, staring at the screens from over her shoulder.

Tenenbaum sighed, "I think it might be healing, but it is definitely infected."

Michael shook his head, "I figured that would happen." He began scouring over the monitors, watching the splicers crawling from the woodwork, the sane ones slowly meeting with the unstable ones. Big Daddies wandered the halls, searching for the rogue Little Sisters that still hid from everyone, even Tenenbaum.

"I'm sure it will get better with time." She looked down at her hands, "Though I have noticed that the rest of my health has improved." She turned to Michael, "Do I look younger to you?"

Michael smiled, "A little, I guess." It was true: Her hair seemed slightly darker than the usual white. Her wrinkles were not quite as deep and her age spots had diminished. "Yes, you do look younger."

"Well, thank you." She turned back to the screens, her hand clutching her abdomen tightly. "It's the pain. It's churning my insides." She settled back into her chair.

Michael turned to the door, "Well if it gets significantly worse, just let myself or Jenkins know." He opened the door, "And I wouldn't bother Isabelle right now. In addition to attempting to locate Jack, she's trying to keep an eye on Clerkwell and his agents. She is stretching her mind to its limits." He took a step out before turning back, "Just between us," He paused, "I'm worried for her."

Tenenbaum sighed, "So am I."

Michael nodded, then exited the room, closing the door behind him. He walked across the hall, opening the door to Isabelle's room, watching her as she sat silently on her bed, her eyes closed, her body frozen. Michael smiled and closed the door, continuing out of the apartment complex.

He exited the building, his shoes clacking on the marble tile as he gazed out at the blue sea. He came closer to his lab building, watching the hustle and bustle of scientists, splicers, former splicers, and others. He cut through the small crowd, easing in the door to meet with Jenkins.

Jenkins stood at the machine, staring at control panel intently. His collared shirt was open a few buttons, his tie was loosely threaded around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up. He wore small reading glasses, beaded with sweat.

Michael passes Jackson and Ellist, both locked in conversation as they debated the future of an attempted resistance. They both nodded at Michael as he walked by. He approached Jenkins as the scientist stood from the machine.

"How's the good doctor?" Jenkins pushed his glasses up onto this bald head.

Michael shook his head, "Well, the cut is infected, but not too bad."

Jenkins nodded, "That's good to hear." He motioned to the scorch mark in the floor, "On a good note, we just finished vacuuming up the splicer that cut her." He closed the cover of the control panel.

"Well that's a good thing." He turned to Jackson and Ellist, "I need to talk to the two of you." He walked to the table and seated himself next to Ellist, Jenkins next to Jackson. The men turned to face each other as Michael cleared his throat. "I am going to be brutally honest."

"What a novel idea!" Jenkins leaned back in his chair.

Michael gave Jenkins a sideways glare before continuing. "Clerkwell controls the most powerful nation in the world. This is not new." He sighed, resting his hands on the table. "The only people who know about this are those in this city. He is heavily guarded, both by our government, and most likely by his own followers. Multiple sites in the country have been attacked. It can be assumed that these attacks came from his followers, but-"

Jackson cut in firmly, "But we don't know why. The only reason we have been able to hypothesize is he is attempting to create an enemy to fight."

"A country in turmoil is easier to manipulate." Ellist said, his voice raspy. "The President is either relied on or crucified during a time of crisis. If he plays his cards right, he can gain the former."

"Right." Michael leaned onto his arms. "If he is creating an artificial enemy, he can get the country in enough perceived danger to convince the government and citizens alike to grant him more power."

"This isn't pre-World War Two Germany. Are we comparing Clerkwell to Hitler?" Jackson's voice rose slightly.

Ellist nodded, "Somewhat. He is highly intelligent." He sat back, crossing his arms. "You push a group of people far enough and they will become desperate. Those people become desperate enough; they will do anything to quell the desperation." He looked up at Jackson, "And if that means granting emergency powers to the President, an act against everything this country stands for, and then it will happen."

Jenkins raised his eyebrows, "So if we go back up there, we could find ourselves in the middle of a dictatorship?"

Ellist nodded, "Theoretically, yes. I don't think we should be surprised by anything. When we return, we could be facing an empire."

"Well that's a cheery thought." Jenkins shook his head, "So when do we go back?"

"As soon as possible." The table grew silent as Jackson gave his answer. The peculiar part was at the same exact time Michael also said the words, "Not for quite some time." Jenkins and Ellist looked from Michael to Jackson and back again.

Jackson frowned, "We're going to give the bastard more time?"

"He's already the President, Eric." Michael said, "It's a plateau. His power spike is going to flatten somewhat, and his manifestation of thorough domination is going to take some time. There is not much more we are going to lose by taking the time to fully prepare ourselves for an assault against Clerkwell."

"The longer we wait, the more loyal the citizens will be to the leader of the country."

Michael shrugged slightly as he sat back, "Yes and no. Depending on how well of a leader Clerkwell becomes dictates how loyal his countrymen will be."

"I don't know, Michael." Jackson stood, turning now to the still-glowing portal to his office aboveground. Accessed through the closet in his room at the White House, the portal allowed for quick escape and transportation between the surface and Rapture. "Something makes me want to charge through that portal."

"Well I'm sorry to hear that, because I am closing the portal." The light shuddered before dissolving into separate lights. The light eventually dissipated. "We cannot afford someone happening upon it and I am not going to have anyone venturing up there before we are ready."

Jackson turned to Michael, "Are you kidding me?" He took a step towards him. "So now we're trapped? Is that it? This is your plan now?"

Michael stood from the table, "It was my plan from the start, Eric!" He pointed to Jenkins, "Our machine is going to help the surface. I don't need the surface! I could have stayed here forever and never cared about your world." His voice was loud and ringing.

The two stared at each other for a moment before realizing there was another person standing near. Michael turned to see Hailey, her face still holding a look of concern. "Uh, Michael?" She motioned to a television screen near the door. It had been newly installed to allow the news to be broadcasted down under the surface using satellite feed linked from a satellite installed on the aboveground sea locked entrance to Rapture. It now showed a reporter with a picture of the blonde man on screen. "I think you better see this, guys." Hailey turned the volume up.

"…after causing the destruction of the Sacramento Capitol, the suspect, Johann Decker, has been apprehended and questioned thoroughly by White House Chief of Security Hector Rikt and Federal Bureau of Investigation head, Mulgan Sadents. The suspect has revealed a terrorist threat that is based out of the very homeland of the United States. These terrorists are led by a man named Michael Steinman." To the room's horror, a police sketch of Michael appeared next to the reporter's face. "A claim that Decker was able to manipulate electricity to create the explosion has been confirmed by Rikt and Sadents. The terrorists have all claimed to have superhuman abilities, and their motives are to apparently gain control of the country through-"

The TV shut off as Hailey turned to face the stunned and silent table of men. Michael stared blankly at the dark screen. Jackson began pacing around the table, rubbing his head. Finally, he stood over the table. "This is… I can't… God DAMNIT!" His fist slammed through the table as the table shattered in a resounding shockwave. Jackson turned his fist over, frowning as the cuts in his hand from the wood began to heal in a matter of seconds.

Jenkins smiled, "Well now we know what the machine did." He placed his hands behind his head.

Michael sighed, "We don't have a choice. We need to stay here and prepare for some time. We need to fix this city and its people in order to be able to launch an attack against Clerkwell."

Jackson rubbed his hand, "Fine. We wait and prepare." He looked at Michael, "And how do we go up and get supplies until we stabilize food production and water recycling? You're a wanted man and William and I are state officials."

"Oy! You could send me." Miser stood at the door in his old Fontaine Fisheries uniform, his voice thick with his English accent. "I can hop there and back in a tick."

Michael smiled, shaking his head, "Problem solved."

***

Johann stood in his holding cell, his head a mess of swirling thoughts. _Richard!_ He would scream in his own head, desperately searching for the person he knew was responsible for the mess he was in. He pounded his head, his short spiky hair matted in places.

Suddenly, the room grew dark as Richard appeared next to Johann. "You called?"

Johann jumped slightly, backing up. "Hey!" He called out to the officers down the hall. "Someone's here!"

Richard held out his hand, "No one can hear you, Joe." He stood close to Johann, "You're lying in your bed, mumbling to yourself. This is all in your mind." He sat on the bench in the cell. "It's merely a physical manifestation of our minds combating."

"Combating? Jesus Christ, Richard! What the fuck is going on?" Johann felt an electric current flowing through him.

"Clerkwell needs an enemy to fight as the President. That enemy had to be you."

"Me? What the hell? So you're helping him by taking control of me? By making me the bad guy?" He began walking towards Richard, "You manipulative son of a bitch!" He felt the heat in his hands.

Richard began looking uncomfortable, backing away from Johann slightly. "It had to be done, Joe, and you know it. If he was going to control this place, he needed someone to take the fall."

"And that person is me?" Sparks crackled around his hands.

"You need to calm down, Johann. Nothing good is going to come of this. If you somehow find a way to blow me out of your brain, and then manage to escape, you will be hunted by anyone Clerkwell and I control."

"And hunted by my own government. Either way I am royally fucked, man!" An arc of lightning sprang from his hand, lancing into the wall behind Richard. He began closing in on Richard, "You get the fuck out of my head." His hand gripped Richard's throat tightly as the electricity began surging through Richard's form. Lightning shot from Richard's form as his body began convulsing. His body crumpled, then deteriorated as Johann sat up from his bed.

Johann wiped his brow, which was beaded with sweat. He stood up and looked about his cell. Aiming his arms at the wall, a bolt of energy exploded the wall in front of him.


End file.
